Restoring the House of the Dragon to Its Proper Glory In Fire and Blood...In Ice and Fire - DryWell117 (2024)

Chapter Text

I don't own Game of Thrones or the ASOIAF Series, which both belong to GRRM.

"..." Character P.O.V.

'...' Character Thoughts

" ..." High Valyrian, Old Tongue, or any other languages

Chapter 2: A Talk of the Realm, Dragon to Dragon, Fire to Fire, Blood to Blood

- Princess Maegelle Targaryen -

Having Gaemon back here and returned to her truly made Maegelle fervid and elated.

The latter so much so that it brought about a warm and secure sensation that she longed to feel once more from him. Four years had done little to douse that passionate roaring flame that Maegelle had for Gaemon. And with him back here in Westeros and having grown in more ways than one from his four years away in the world, it only made that flame grow even more to the point of erupting.

Maegelle had observed Gaemon intently after their daughters had settled down. Watched as Gaemon began to speak and talk to them all, getting to know them as they did the same toward him eagerly. How he had answered every question they asked and how he had engaged himself with their daughters had brought a large, ever-present smile to Maegelle’s face.

She immediately called for the servants to bring them all some food as they sat down at the nearby table, talking further and awaiting the servants' return. They spoke of everything important and nothing important at all and asked one another question after question. Just doing their utmost best to speak as a family and enjoy their time together. And when the servants returned, they brought the food in aplenty for a sudden meal such as it was. A result of asking for food to be brought in on such short notice

Maegelle had eyed Gaemon as he devoured his portion of the generous meal delivered to them. Feasting on his fill in the form of a single roasted wild boar, a roasted swan stuffed with mushrooms and oysters, six pheasants, five well-cooked quail, four legs of lamb baked in a crust of garlic and herbs, two sides of beef, two slices, pies, two slices of lamprey pie, a single hot crab pie, blood sausages that came with fried bread, and a large salad of spinach and chickpeas and turnip greens dressed with apples and pine nuts. All of it washed down with a rundlet filled with a four-hundred-year-old vintage of Arbor gold from the cellars, which was the vastly private stock of Gaemon and herself that they both brought from the Redwynes at the Arbor. Watered down through the method of two parts wine to five parts water.

This tradition was performed by the Valyrians and the dragonlords of old, like her family, as the Valyrians believed that only barbarians drank unmixed or undiluted wine. Alongside that, next to this, it was also frowned upon to become so drunk that you couldn't function or hold a conversation.

It was a practice done by the Valyrians stretching back five thousand years to the start of the Freehold and to the centuries before the dragons, and it had been kept intact by their ancestors through Dragonlord Aenar Targaryen the Exile. One that Gaemon made sure was performed here before his departure.

And while the meal he ate was excessively large for the average man, her nephew-husband’s appetite was small compared to Maegelle’s other nephew Maekar's when he ate and drank his fill. Gaemon’s younger brother, with whom he shared a womb alongside Visenya, was a much larger man than Gaemon. So, like his brother, his appetite matched his size.

That being said, it took Maegelle and her daughters little time to eat their fill, and then they sat back and relaxed as Gaemon continued to eat. All the while, the girls took to watching their father devour and wash down his food with the mixed wine in awe of his appetite.

Whereafter, he looked at the three of them, who all had curious looks, before letting out a large and loud belch only to sit back in his seat and pat his stomach with a content sigh. His actions got laughter out of them all as they found amusem*nt in what he did. Her beloved did eat too quickly for her liking, though she was delighted to see he was sated after it for the moment.

Maegelle hereafter called for the servants to clear the table and bring them dessert, which came in the form of bowls of iced strawberries and sweet cream. Once presented, Gaemon played around with it a bit by making sure the sweet cream blanketed the facial hair above his upper lip. After that, he began making laughable faces at their daughters, to which they laughed and chuckled.

The sight of this further stifled Maegelle's doubt that Gaemon would not take to fatherhood so instantly and effortlessly. It appeared that Gaemon did not have an issue with being thrust into the role of now being a father.

This was proven by where she was currently, sitting quietly and watching Gaemon sing to their daughters before putting them back to bed again.

“Drakari pykiros Tīkummo jemiros Yn lantyz bartossa Saelot vāedis…” (Fire breather Winged leader But two heads To a third sing…)

He moved towards their daughters' bed, and they all listened quietly to their father sing. Entranced by the beauty of his voice with which he possessed and used to great effect.

Maegelle had longed to hear him sing. His voice had always been beautiful. Significantly so when Gaemon sang to her, and Gaemon did so because he knew it calmed her and brought a smile to her face.

He always seemed to have a private song just for her, as if he had written it expressly for that purpose.

“...Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis Se gēlȳn irūdaks Ānogrose…” (...From my voice: The fires have spoken And the price has been paid With blood magic…)

This song, however, was a special one. One that all Targaryens had learned and passed down to their kin for five thousand years. From the beginning of the Freehold to the end of it and after.

Gaemon sat down on the bed as close as he could be to them as he continued to sing.

“...Perzyro udrȳssi Ezīmptos laehossi Hārossa letagon Aōt vāedan…” (...With words of flame With clear eyes To bind the three To you I sing…)

Gaemon stopped for a moment to breathe in before continuing.

“...Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi Prūmȳsa sōvīli Gevī dāerī.” (...As one we gather And with three heads We shall fly as we were destined Beautifully, freely.)

Once he had sung the last words, Gaemon fell silent completely and started to tuck the covers over them.

“Where did you learn that song, father?” asked Alarra in a prying tone.

“I learned it from my father, your grandfather.” began Gaemon, answering her question. “And he learned it from his parents. And them from theirs. All the way back to Old Valyria.” said Gaemon, continuing to speak with a small smile. “And one day…you will all sing it too. To your children…and…” spoke Gaemon, trailing off now.

Reaching now into his satchel to grab something he wanted to present them with…

“…to your dragons,” finished Gaemon.

His finishing words initially confounded Maegelle until she saw what he drew from the bag. It was a sight that made her eyes widen so much that one might reckon her eyes might fall out if they were opened any wider.

As Gaemon now carefully gifted to their daughters…

…three dragon eggs.

Seeing such a gift immediately makes each of their children’s eyes widen in awe.

He did not stop upon seeing this; merely chuckled as he handed each of them an egg.

To Vaella went an egg that was scarlet red but held orange swirls that neared the color of the sun. To Alyssa went an egg that was mostly grey and bordered on black with purple swirls. And to Alarra went an entirely purple egg.

It was here that, upon handing them the eggs, Gaemon remained silent. Allowing their daughters to take in this great gift he had given them. A sight that genuinely made her cheeks ache somewhat from the smile she had on her face.

All the while, Alarra looked up to Gaemon from her egg with a confused look on her face as she spoke.

“What happened to him? To grandfather?” Alarra asked quietly and softly. “Why do we not see him?” she asked further in a melancholy tone that matched her eyes.

Yielding the small smile on Gaemon’s face to falter partially at the inquiry. Both Alarra’s elder sisters looked from her to him for an answer as well, just with their eyes.

Gaemon’s eyes fell away from theirs as he appeared to be thinking about what to say appropriately and how to tell them. His mouth opened for a moment before closing and then opened again when he had an answer.

“He passed on before you were all born…” began Gaemon, responding quietly and delicately. “...to join his elder brother, his sister...my aunt, our kin, our ancestors, and our gods…” said Gaemon further as his eyes now looked back up to them. “...when I was sixteen name days,” Gaemon sighed.

Clearly remembering how his father, Maegelle’s older brother, had passed. She knew his death hurt Gaemon very much and nearly broke him. Even more than when her brother Prince Aemon fell on the Sapphire Isle of Tarth.

Maegelle reflected on how Gaemon was at her brother's side during the hunt to commemorate Baelon being named Hand of the King. How Gaemon had been at Baelon's side from when the pain began and stayed with him during the five days he suffered before succumbing to death's embrace.

Gaemon had been inconsolable and mad with grief, and how he had sealed himself off inside himself was heartbreaking. It was more complex and different than how both Viserys and Daemon did when Baelon passed. He had hidden himself on Dragonstone for nearly nine days behind closed doors, paralyzed in unfathomable grief without a drink of water or food in all that time before his sister Visenya and brother Maekar went to recover him.

When he finally returned to the capitol after two days with Visenya on dragonback alongside Maekar, Gaemon’s resolve returned, but all the same, he was changed. And his decisiveness in seeing the events through the uncertainty that had at the time been still present upon his return was done stoically.

For Gaemon was being strong not only for Maegelle but also for his mother, his siblings, Maegelle’s father and mother, and their House, which yet another loss to the family had broken.

Whatever of the boy that remained in Gaemon had been killed with the death of Baelon...

...and let the man that he was now be born with his passing upon placing the coins on Baelon's eyes for the boatman and lighting his father's funeral pyre himself.

“But he’s still here, little hatchling,” said Gaemon reassuringly as he put three of his fingers to his head before moving his fingers to his heart. “Inside,” said Gaemon, persisting as he put his two fingers on their chest where their hearts were. “And here…with all of you,” said Gaemon, finishing.

Maegelle could see the understanding in their eyes as Gaemon said this to the girls. She had made sure they had comprehended what death was and how they kept a loved one alive in their hearts and memories.

“You won’t join him soon, will you? And leave us again?” asks Alyssa softly, looking sad and worried at the prospect.

Her question made Gaemon shake his head as he answered.

“Never,” said Gaemon, promising. “I’ll always fight to get back to you all. I promise,” said Gaemon further, ensuring his words with a smile.

This got the response of Alyssa and her sisters to smile back, making Maegelle smile even more now.

Gaemon moved now to place a kiss on each of their heads before moving away from them. Permitting Maegelle to make herself known to the children now to take over from here.

She moved forward quickly and kneeled beside their bed before them as Gaemon moved away while she spoke.

“Lo ao jorrāelagon mirros iā emagon iā nightmare, skoros gaomagon ao hāre gaomagon?” asks Maegelle, speaking to them now in High Valyrian. (If you need anything or have a nightmare, what do you three do?)

“Māzigon naejot aōha bed se ivestragon ao,” spoke Vaella, answering to speak for them. (Come to your bed and tell you.)

Provoking the other two of her sisters to nod their heads. Which got a chuckling huff from Maegelle’s nose.

“Olvie sȳz, ñuha byka zaldrīzoti,” said Maegelle, giving them all kisses on their foreheads before hugging them all. (Very good, my little dragons.)

Holding them for a few seconds before letting them.

“Sȳz bantis.” said Maegelle. (Good night.)

“Sȳz bantis, muña,” spoke Vaella, Alyssa, and Alarra in unison. (Good night, mother.)

Maegelle turned her head from them to look at Gaemon, who just watched them. Appearing to be at peace with just doing that.

“Mirre hen vestrā sȳz bantis naejot aōha kepa,” said Maegelle, telling them to do so. (All of you say good night to your father.)

“Sȳz bantis, kepa.” spoke their daughters once more as they looked at him. (Good night, father.)

He gave them all a smile as he spoke the words softly.

“Sȳz bantis,” said Gaemon, ending with a closed-lipped smile. (Good night.)

Maegelle moved from here to stand and blow out the candle on the small table next to the bed, leaving the only source of light to come from the torches hanging on the wall and the fire glowing softly in the fireplace.

She walked towards Gaemon now so that she could stand next to him. All the while, he continued to look at their daughters as they did the same to him. Just by looking at him, it was clear to Maegelle at this moment that they were now his greatest treasures. Something else that was precious in his life to cherish and protect beside herself.

As she walked, Maegelle turned her head to their daughters to speak to them for a final time.

“Ēdrugon,” ordered Maegelle softly. (Sleep.)

A soft command that made the three close their eyes now as she turned back to Gaemon after stepping past his shoulder.

His eyes looked fairly sad as they began to turn to look at the ground beneath his feet. It was more than a certainty that Gaemon was guilty of not being there for them—for her. All those years now induced him to feel shame at the fact that their daughters were just getting to know him.

This would not do, and she would not allow him to delve further into his own head.

Therefore, Maegelle took his right hand and spoke.

“Don’t allow yourself to descend down that path of thinking,” said Maegelle firmly but quietly, gaining his attention as his head turned a measure toward her. “You are here now. That’s all that matters,” said Maegelle fiercely now with her soft voice.

Gaemon was quiet for a moment as he took in her words. Yet he ultimately nodded after the quietness of his thoughts seemed to pass as he breathed heavily.

Speaking out quietly while turning his body with her. His hand still held hers as she moved, forcing him to follow her.

“They know High Valyrian quite well,” uttered Gaemon quietly, noting this to her as they walked.

He sounded a bit surprised to realize that about their daughters, an extent higher than Maegelle felt was expected.

It promptly forced Maegelle to stop her steps and turn toward Gaemon so that she could look him in the eyes.

“It’s their ancestral tongue. The language I made certain was their mother tongue,” declared Maegelle, directly and unhesitating. “The first language I made certain they knew before any other. Before ever learning next the common tongue of the Andals,” said Maegelle, speaking with further sincerity on the matter.

It was an answer that held weight to it.

A weight that came from the conflict between her past and her place within the Targaryen dynasty.

Which had begun with her mother, Alysanne.

Gaemon indisputably recognized this and nodded his head quietly toward Maegelle. Though not without a slight, satisfied smirk coming to his lips. A reaction she figured would be the case.

Gaemon was all Valyrian and Northman without a drop of Andal blood in his veins, which was in contrast to her pure Valyrian blood without a drop of Andal in her own.

“That’s good to hear,” says Gaemon, finally.

Silence passed between them for a few moments, and her eyes went to his hand, which she held loosely for a moment.

Breathing quietly through her nose, she looked at Gaemon again and squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

“Now, let's get you a boiling bath, a proper shave, and some robes and smallclothes for the night…” declared Maegelle, trailing towards the end. “...you reek of dragon and whatever else your body is covered in. And I would see that rectified before we have our talk on things you need to know of,” said Maegelle, finishing with a look that gave no room for argument or difficulty on his part.

She began to step instantly with Gaemon in her grasp, following her gladly. However, out of the corner of her eyes, Maegelle could tell he was confused about what needed to be spoken about.

That was until Gaemon hazarded a guess at what it was about.

“Another child?” asked Gaemon quietly with bewilderment in his voice.

The question made Maegelle cast an even heavier sigh before shaking her head at it.

“That is something you must find out for yourself, Gaemon…” answered Maegelle bluntly and trailingly.

His silence to her cryptic words spoke volumes, and as they walked, she could feel the stream of thoughts turning in his head.

“...you were and are…quite potent,” said Maegelle, finishing.

Permitting total silence to fall between them as he took in her words.

- Prince Gaemon Targaryen -

It felt wonderful to clean himself, shave, and then clean himself again.

After he had left Maegelle to do as she bade him to do, which was to get out his present garments, clean, shave, and look presentable. For not only herself but for himself and those who served them. Declaring that while Gaemon was half a Northman and a fine fighting man, Maegelle would not have her husband, a prince no less, looking like an unwashed barbarian in her bed. She stated further that the beard would come off tonight, and his hair would be as it was, loose and flowing but clean. And all these commands, Gaemon had obeyed.

Gaemon made his way to the bathhouses used privately for themselves within the castle and started first with disrobing in the undressing chamber. From there, he entered the bāne tistālion. The main room with a warm bath that he relaxed his entire body in for a bit while covering every inch of himself in the water. Afterward, he pulled himself from the warm waters and had the servants employ olive oil to cover every inch of his skin. Once this was done, Gaemon moved on to the konor tistālion, the hottest steam room and bath.

The heat here would make him sweat, at which point the next step began when Gaemon gestured for the servants to start using a Valyrian tool known as a strigil. A metal scraper with a dull blade and a handle and was used to cleanse the body by scraping off dirt and perspiration and removing the excess oil that was applied before entering the room. A practice done in Old Valyria that was recognized by many in that the oil would capture the dirt and any other contents on a person's body and prompt sweating that would lead to hale skin and better general health of the individual.

Once this was accomplished, Gaemon moved on to plunge into the scalding waters of the hottest bath in the room and enjoy them. He had commanded the servants beforehand to make certain that the waters here were heated to a great boil that he could enjoy and feel.

The hot water, to this extent, never bothered him. Gaemon reveled in such heat as much as he did in the cold. Fire, for that matter, never did him any harm, at least ordinary flames, especially after he found this out when he grabbed a toy for his brother Maekar, which fell into the fire when they were children.

Here, Gaemon sat the most and enjoyed the most time before moving on to the tista tistālion. A hot, dry area for generating further sweating. Whereafter this, he moved on to the iōrves tistālion. The room where he was given a massage with oils applied once more, and a final scraping with strigils was conducted. After this, Gaemon was free to enjoy the cold waters of this final bath.

Gaemon did not stay long here and chose afterward to make his way to his barber of the castle. Whereby after arriving, he told the man to give him a nice, close, and clean shave. He cut off the long strands first as closest to the face, then used a lather to cover his facial hair, and then began to use a razor to shave off what was left. Leaving him clean-shaven and finished for the night.

Hence, guiding to where Gaemon was now.

Sitting at the foot of his bed in his and Maegelle’s bedchambers in his silk smallclothes. Quietly observing his aunt-wife, Gaemon watched Maegelle as she sat at her dressing table. Removing various portions of jewelry—all except for the three rings she wore on her fingers and a single necklace.

Two were on her left ring finger, one was on her middle finger like the one he wore on his, and the last was a Valyrian steel necklace. The last Maegelle had worn beside the other, tied to her Faith, which was at this very moment removed from her neck and set down alongside all the different pieces of jewelry Gaemon had given her. Allowing him to revisit the four objects that were symbols of their bond as aunt and nephew, as lovers and bonded souls, and as husband and wife.

Her betrothal ring and ring of marriage. Her ring for the promise of never being ripped apart and one day bonding their blood like the conqueror worn on her middle finger. And a heavy-looking yet light necklace that was a symbol of their Valyrian ancestry and a token of his endearing nature toward her.

The first two, indications and symbols of their marriage and love, were made of Valyrian steel. They had center gems in the form of rubies and numerous smaller gems of the exact gemstone.

The second ring on her middle finger, the twin to his own, was made of electrum and held a blue sapphire. Forged in a time when their Valyrian ancestors were still humble shepherds and worshipped the sun and stars and the blue sky.

All the while, the necklace that looked heavy to the eye was made of Valyrian steel and possessed an alternating pattern of rubies and amethysts that complemented her pure Valyrian beauty, purple eyes, and the House and people she belonged to.

Maegelle rarely took them off and kept them on her at all times as much as she could. Just as Gaemon did with his ring of marriage and the twin ring of promise he wore on his middle finger, both made of the same respective metals.

It gave him comfort for all those years away from Westeros in the East and South, just as her appearance did the same presently.

Maegelle had always been beautiful. Looking younger than her age of forty-three name-days by two decades.

Strikingly exquisite with an unworldly goddess-like magnificence with curling silver-gold hair that reached to her waist when not bound into braids. A round face with divinely strong cheekbones and big, captivating, enchanting, velvety, deep violet eyes to accompany this. Defined as being cow-eyed even, a physical trait that was an exotic mark of beauty amongst women in Old Valyria due to the rarity of the feature. All the while possessing smooth, pale, porcelain skin reminiscent of that in a full moon.

She was taller and more graceful than her mother and all her siblings. Outmatching Jocelyn Baratheon in stature with solid ankles and even more powerful legs and owning a body that Maegelle had at one point considered sinful. It was so wicked that Maegelle took to significant lengths with her cousin Rhaella’s assistance to cover it up in long flowing robes and repent daily to the Seven in a sept. He agreed that it was sinful…

...to everyone else’s eyes except for his own, that is.

For she possessed a body that genuinely stirred lust and temptation in him like no other, alongside ardor at claiming it.

Possessing full, larger than expected, alluring, soft, pale, buxom, heavy, round, turgid breasts with large red nipples and areolae that were the measure of Dornish blood oranges in wideness that were equally as red.

Alongside this, Maegelle was splendidly soft shapen. Her look was one of being shapely and full-figured beyond measure; her body bore a thick apple shape to his eyes. Bearing a beautifully plump belly, a thick waist, a set of ample hips, with large thighs and an even larger and rounded arse where a great extent of her fat was positioned.

She was indeed a truly divine sight. Akin to that of a Valyrian goddess.

Thus, the reason why Gaemon ensured there was no accursed Andal bedding ceremony when the truth came out about them. For no common and lesser mortals would put hands on a lady, a princess, a queen like her who gave her heart to him.

One who saw beyond the beauty and horror of him for the iron underneath.

Not to mention, at the time, it would not have been prudent to break half on two hundred lords' jaws in their endeavor to disrobe her on their way to their chambers as confirmation of consummation. A disgusting Andal tradition, truly.

Gaemon's father, mother, and grandparents knew well his thoughts on the act, so they took to extensive measures to ensure that Gaemon would not kill a man at the event. His eyes and his eyes alone would always see her body.

That was made very certain.

“You are getting lost in the vision of me once more, Gaemon Targaryen,” Maegelle said softly.

Gaining his attention instantly with him at that moment, also noticing the co*cky smirk playing on her lips. She appeared almost finished brushing her long hair and seemed keen to be so.

It seemed he truly did get lost in the sight of her. No matter what she did, he could look at her for hours and never lose his focus on her.

“Hmph, can you truly lay blame for me in that?” asks Gaemon playfully with a smile.

“No,” said Maegelle, her tone satisfied, answering as she placed the brush down. “Although, I have to say it's a good thing that some qualities haven’t changed about you in these years,” said Maegelle, with an exhale leaving her nose.

After saying this, she resolved to move and stand up to walk over towards him with a sway in her hips. One that Gaemon enjoyed eyeing as they progressed with the movement of her legs.

The flowing nature of them. The fluidity with which the flesh of them moved. The grace within each step she took. It was all so entrancing to the senses in ways that he could not describe or were beyond conveying.

Gaemon found that Maegelle was a true mistress of motion.

And before long, Gaemon felt it had ended too soon to his liking.

Maegelle was upon him now, and she chose to sit not on the bed beside him but in his lap. Both legs spread out wide to each side of his thighs to allow them to rest on the heels while her arse rested on his crotch. Getting as close to him as she possibly could, Maegelle now took a moment to rub the scars that covered his face with her fingers. She used her thumb to slowly and carefully rub each and every one of them as she spoke.

“What attacked you to possess these scars?” asked Maegelle softly.

“Well, believe it or not, it was an eagle. A large eagle at that,” answered Gaemon with a slight chuckle.

There was a minor chuckling release of air from her nose as Maegelle’s hand descended toward his lips, her thumb caressing their flesh softly. Noting the familiar scar on the right portion of his lip positioned near the middle that remained. It was put there and given to him by Daemon when the Rogue Dog, in his infinite wisdom, chose to chuck a stone at Gaemon in the training yard when he was twelve name-days old. Next to this came the second scar, positioned on the corner of his right lip, given to him by the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gyles Morrigen, at seven name-days during a harsh training session in the yard that came at Gaemon's own behest.

Third, following this came the small yet noticeable horizontal scar on his left cheekbone that he received at twelve name days. This third was one that Maegelle seemed to remember well, as Gaemon noted her fingers lingered on it. It had come from when Gaemon viciously defended her from dishonorable dogs who dared to call themselves knights of the Reach who had attempted to force themselves upon her to try and rape her.

It was a wound Gaemon spoke of to her as worth bearing if it meant she was kept whole, safe, her virtue intact, and protected. And all of these he had succeeded in.

Then, after that, her fingers found the third scar positioned on his right cheek. A faint one her fingers stayed long on. He gained it at thirteen name days, too, due to an arrow that struck just below his eye at the Battle of Grassy Vale. The last battle of the Great Robber Knight Rebellion of 98 AC. This particular one made Maegelle and others of their House worry about him when Gaemon sent news to them in King's Landing of his victory and wounding. The maesters like to write in their history books that this was a shallow scratch, but it was anything but that.

If anything were to be learned from the histories on the matter and his own personal experience, despite the pain, it was always to wear a f*cking helmet and armor that covered every inch of the face and body.

Let the foolish mummers around a campfire and in the streets of King's Landing tell you this. Let the crowd of men, warrior women, and knights who don't wear helmets into battle and who seek many ways to die tell you the same, and Gaemon would say to you that that is madness and foolishness.

He had learned that lesson well when his uncle Prince Aemon fell on the Isle of Tarth. The only thing about that was that Gaemon did not do enough. He wore armor, yes, and he wore chainmail to cover his neck and head; that much was a certainty, but he did not wear a damn helm. Gaemon's wounding came because of that fact, and he luckily lived to learn from that lesson.

The arrow was lodged six inches deep into his skull, pushing against his spine, according to those tending him, narrowly missing his brain and surrounding arteries. And to his credit, despite this, Gaemon kept on fighting for nearly an hour and a half longer with it still there before his men had to drag him off the field. The arrow still sticking out of his face as Gaemon cut down man after man who came after him or who he went after, only for the shaft to disjoin itself and fall out at some point during the battle...without the arrowhead.

For seven days, the maesters and healers around him did their best or contemplated how to remove it best until Gaemon got frustrated and had enough of their incompetence. Before Gaemon was of a mind to send word to King's Landing, he sent word immediately and begrudgingly to a man close by he had once clashed with on many occasions. Who, in turn, later became his mentor and teacher for a time alongside his siblings...

...his other uncle...

...Prince and Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen. Those were his titles, and Gaemon would call the man what he was.

He had been in Lord Tyrell's company for some time, as the fighting had stalled the armed guard and entourage that was to take him to King's Landing. Choosing to travel with Lord Tyrell from Highgarden to trap and capture the remaining rebels who fled the fighting once the battle was lost.

At his arrival and upon examining the wound, Vaegon, in response, sent for his student, the Maester Gerardys, to aid with the issue of the arrowhead.

A man who, after arriving, instantly started his labor by mixing a balanced concoction of white wine vinegar, lettuce juice, henbane, hemlock, opium, and bryony, known as dwale, made for the pain for Gaemon to drink. After this, Gerardys advanced by taking the pith of an elder, which he wrapped in linen, dipped in honey and rose water, and carefully eased down into the wound where the arrowhead was.

Gerardys did this all by what was practiced feel, as he had also begun widening the wound that started to close up in those seven days to give him room to work. It was in this method that the maester did it over and over again with thicker piths of elder each time, leaving them there for a bit of time before removing each one. It was a painful procedure that he had to stay so incredibly still for despite the incredible pain he felt from it, yet it did accomplish the task for what came next. As Gerardys took a tool in hand that were long smooth tongs that had a screw mechanism inside that would work down the shaft. The hardest part of the whole ordeal.

The entire time Gerardys worked the tongs down into the wound, he was nervous; everyone around him was nervous. Everyone, including Ser Ryam, Ser Harrold, Ser Steffon, and the Cargyll twins squiring for the Kingsguard, waited on bated breath. The silence was so palpable that it could be cut with a small butter knife. So when Gerardys felt something, he began to twist on the tongs, widening them, and Gaemon could feel it as if this happened. Once Gerardys felt it was secured in the arrow, he began to move it slightly back and forth until, very carefully removing it, the maester extracted the arrowhead, saving his life.

Afterward, Gerardys moved quickly to clean it out immediately and then daily for several weeks with rose water and turpentine. Cleansing it out but not going as deeply into the wound with every engagement, permitting the wound to heal from the bottom up.

Once this was finally undertaken and the assurance of his survival was made definite, Gaemon finally returned to King's Landing after his wound had sufficiently healed enough to allow travel. He was just lucky that the angle of the arrow was right. The arrow had not come in at a high enough speed where it went through the back of his head, and alongside that, the type of arrowhead that was used was right. Yet that didn't stop Maegelle from inquiring about his health and how he felt after it all upon his return to King's Landing.

Just as she was now, quietly looking him over to see him fully and ensure he was in perfect form. She did not touch it any further or look at it a moment longer before moving further toward his neck. To the other that was placed there.

A new one like many others.

It was here that Maegelle’s eyes widened to a significantly concerned degree, and Gaemon prepared himself to hear the onset of what she was to say at now noticing it. An evident scar from what was undoubtedly a knife wound that went across from one side of his neck to the other.

It had been covered away from her sight and their children because of his untamed beard, which was presently lacking.

“Who did this to you?” hissed out Maegelle, demanding an immediate answer.

Her face was red with fury, and her voice had a less-than-calm tone of rage. A sight that Gaemon all too well understood when her anger was up rarely. Always accompanied by her eyes shifting a few shades dark with the emotion it was.

Only in this instance, the fire in her blood was up beyond that at seeing perceptible proof of what was an evident attempt on his life.

“An assassin in the night at the palace of the God-Empress of Leng for whom I killed,” said Gaemon, answering Maegelle calmly. “He tried to slice at my throat for a killing blow,” revealed Gaemon, continuing and giving her details. “It did not go as intended and was not deep enough to kill or wound me to the point of bleeding out but yet still deep enough to scar me,” said Gaemon, concluding.

Maegelle was silent as her face began to calm somewhat. She nodded slowly at his tale of how he got it. Her fury diminished significantly at hearing the would-be assassin was no more.

Yet even still, the frown and sad look in Maegelle’s eyes remained as she moved away from this particular scar to rest. Her fingers trailed even further down to his torso, noting the scar left behind by an arrow around the area that was close to where the arm connected with the shoulder. A wound that she herself had attended to and had now passed over, only to stop at his chest and note what she saw.

A red three-headed dragon tattoo started from the middle of his left side, where his ribs were, and stretched out in various directions. The first head stretched out and coiled across his left shoulder and down his left arm to the wrist. The second head stretched out to where the heart was. The third stretched beyond the waist and coiled around his upper left leg and down to the ankle. The scales inside the body that followed each head held ancient High Valyrian runes that were black as coal at the center of each scale.

Meanwhile, in the areas between each head or following it on each side, there were petite and various other tattoos, all of which were unquestionably sorcerer and runic signs of ancient Valyria. No one would know he had these unless he took off his silk garments, which he rarely did.

However, this wasn’t the object of Maegelle’s worry and interest.

What happened to be was the vertical scar that started at the point of the left collarbone, met in the middle close to the neck, and descended all the way down to the upper part of his stomach, where his visibly well-developed abdomen muscles were. Another with this ran over it, a horizontal scar that ran through the vertical one and across it, starting at the crease between his chest and traveling over his left breast in a long stroke.

Maegelle looked at these for a while and then turned to the smaller ones across his torso. Beginning with the one nearest to his heart that, by the luck of the gods, missed its target. At the same time, the next two at his sides were distinctly claw scars. While the other seven and more worrying ones lay across his abdomen in the form of sword and knife wounds. The last of the seven is the greatest in the form of two long horizontal strokes arching across the upper part of his stomach as if a spear with two heads had done it. All of which he had convalesced and learned various lessons from.

“And what caused these?” asked Maegelle faintly.

Gaemon did not speak instantly and favored closing his eyes for a moment as he breathed in and out before doing so.

“Battles, conflicts, and fighters who made me come so close to dying,” said Gaemon, responding to her and being equally quiet as she was, clear remembrance at how he got them.

Maegelle nodded with an understanding yet melancholic look behind her eyes as she touched them.

Breathing in deeply before exhaling, she was satisfied with his truthfulness and well-being but was nonetheless displeased in her own way.

“So many scars from so many fights and battles…” begins Maegelle trailingly. “...it pains me truly so even to consider what you’ve gone through to bear them,” said Maegelle with a tone of sympathy.

Her head came to lay on his shoulder after looking at the scars for as long as she did. Her hands now also moved to wrap around his back at the neck.

Provoking Gaemon to wrap his own around her waist as he spoke.

“Worry not on that any further. I’m here,” Gaemon responded, toiling to calm her being. “I am well and in good form and health. I’m here with you and our children in our home, and nothing will change that,” said Gaemon resolutely, his expression hardened as proof to keep it that way.

“Aye, you are,” said Maegelle acknowledgingly.

Confirming this as her arms were tight around him.

“Four years away was far too long…” said Maegelle quietly and trailingly. “...much has happened and has not happened while you were gone,” said Maegelle.

“Hmm…” uttered Gaemon, recognizing this as he enjoyed their embrace. “...then tell me.” continues Gaemon. “What all has happened since I’ve been gone?” asked Gaemon, inquiring to hear it from her lips.

He had expected an immediate answer as this more than likely was what needed to be discussed, yet the silence was all that greeted Gaemon.

It remained like this until Maegelle pulled her head up from his shoulders and rested her hands on each as she looked at him. He had expected her to speak now, but she didn't.

Even now, she remained quiet and looked at him momentarily before her eyes turned away.

Which told Gaemon a lot. It seemed there was a lot to recount and for him to be aware of before the threads of fate and the realm pulled them back into the weaving.

“Maegelle…please,” says Gaemon with a soft beseeching. “I need to know, and I’d rather know some of it now than later. Only if you are up to doing so,” said Gaemon further.

Assuring Maegelle that she was not obligated to do so this night if she didn’t feel like it.

Silence passed between them for a moment or two in the stillness of their chambers, and when she looked ready, Maegelle breathed in deeply before she began speaking.

“After you left, your younger brother Aemon and Aelyx stayed in the capital due to their seats on the small council. Alongside my brother Valerion, who was also a respective advisor like them to my father and then to Viserys,” began Maegelle, beginning to speak on the first matters. “The others like myself either followed your mother and Visenya as I did here to the North, staying at this castle or Theon's Deep Den to manage Aelyx's lands, or went to other places across the realm.” persisted Maegelle, forcing Gaemon's head to raise a bit. “Such as with my mother to reside on Dragonstone, with Baelon to Moat Cailin, Daenys to Dragon's Dream, Daemion to the Fortress-City of King's Fall a few leagues northeast of Tumbleton, Maekar to Summerhall and the city of Summerheart in the Dornish Marches, or with Baelor to support him in stewarding the city of New Tolos in my brother's stead,” said Maegelle, bringing this to light.

Gaemon took this in silently for a moment or two before nodding as he spoke. It seemed their family was spread out across the places in the realm given to them by their father in defiance of Jaehaerys.

“That would make sense,” said Gaemon after a few moments of contemplation. “It was more than likely my mother or Visenya’s doing as the eldest and the second in command of the mournival after me,” said Gaemon with remembrance.

He contemplated that this would have more than likely been the possibility when he left Westeros.

Visenya was the eldest after him because he and she shared a womb alongside their brother, Maekar; Gaemon came into the world first, and she was second, and his brother third. This meant that she was the next leading member after him in the mournival due to her closeness to him, age, position of birth, and experience after Maekar, who was now second for the present moment.

The mournival was the inner circle of politics and the closest advisory circle of senior or soon-to-be senior members within House Targaryen that Gaemon forged on his father's command in secret after the Great Robber Knight Rebellion of 98 AC. Formed originally to covertly help counsel their father, Baelon, with decisions given to him by Jaehaerys but also make sure that these members ensured the House of the Dragon went in the right path. Forged in a strong bond beyond the usual dogs of the small council who squabbled amongst each other. The second reason came about because his father wanted other members of their House to know the runnings of a realm and how to tackle decisions that came one after another properly.

Yet regardless of the origins and intentions, the mournival Gaemon created was tasked with advising the next in line to the Iron Throne, House Targaryen as a whole, in private and in public amongst the small council and court before the Iron Throne in many means, which included tactics, diplomacy, and even ethical choices under the guise of worried individuals of the royal family.

With him gone these past four years, they would have needed to ensure this continued alongside their strength before a void of power was formed where he was gone and also make sure no one questioned weakness in their House’s position of strength. It also made sense for Aemon to stay in King’s Landing all this time. He was one of the princes who had a stake in the matters of the Narrow Sea and Trade and was also made the first Master of Trade. A new office that was created by their grandfather Jaehaerys before his death upon Gaemon's urging. Next to all this, Aemon was another one who had equal worries next to Visenya and Maekar about Daemon, Hightower, and Corlys Velaryon.

Most of all, his staying in the capital allowed other princes and princesses, with or without lands, to slink away and govern territory, as was the case with Aemon.

From what Gaemon could gather on his way back here, Aemon had given the governance of the Dragonlands over to their sister Rhaelle alongside their brother Aelyx, as the latter's position at the Red Keep and at court were more paramount. Meaning that a sacrifice between governing their lands or their brother's had to be made, and they both, it seemed, chose the latter since they were so far south. This meant that the governance of Theon's Deep Den was most likely left to his sister-wife, Visenya. His younger brother Baelor was more than likely assisting them both since he was not that far away in the white marble city of New Tolos that laid some leagues away on the south bank of the Blackwater Rush.

“Yes, both my brother, alongside your siblings and mother, have been hard at work these past years,” uttered Maegelle, speaking again. “And after my father died, it only became more pronounced in their actions…” continued Maegelle, trailingly. “...Maekar returned to King’s Landing like the rest of us to pay his respects to my father. Gave his sympathies and made his prayers to the Fourteen Flames. Witnessed his body burned before, fourteen days later, he claimed Vermithor alongside Gael claiming Dreamfyre before he chose to fly back to Summerhall with his entire retinue ahead of him. As Gael herself flew back here to the North with Visenya,” said Maegelle, revealing this to Gaemon.

Who acknowledged this with an unsurprised expression as he nodded. He knew as much that Jaehaerys wanted Maekar to inherit his dragon after he died.

The indication of that much was clear, given how much their grandsire brought Maekar around Vermithor when he could.

As for Gael? That was Gaemon's own doing.

Gaemon wanted Gael not only to claim a dragon but to have one of her own to allow her fire to roar and flow and to spread her wings as a Targaryen should. Man or woman, it did not matter. A dragon was a Targaryen's right, as it had been done in Old Valyria during the Freehold.

Nonetheless, beyond this, there was another side to the coin that was also split.

Gaemon also wanted to spite and anger Jaehaerys. His grandsire's disregard and prejudice toward the worth of women and their being able to govern just as men could have always angered him. The irritation in this reached its peak when Jaehaerys declared that Rhaenyra would not have a dragon or an egg, and Gaemon was forced to take matters into his own hand to change that with an egg that he presented her and placed in her cradle that hatched.

Most lords liked to compare Gaemon to the man who was his grandsire, but he saw none of it. Neither did his father, mother, and other members of the royal House. His grandmother Alysanne even said as much when Jaehaerys spoke it, coldly stating that Gaemon was nothing like the man.

On the other hand, going beyond this, Gaemon wanted Gael to claim a dragon because he felt there were too few riders in the House and that they ought to have another dragon rider within their ranks. To show their strength in the uncertainty for three reasons.

To combat the uncertainty of succession that came with his Uncle Aemon dying on the Isle of Tarth amongst the smallfolk and calm their hearts. To show strength in the face of weakness that came with his father Baelon dying of a burst belly and once more bringing about a succession crisis. Nex to lastly in that Gaemon wanted to guarantee peace concerning Lord Corlys Velaryon, who had always been unruly.

Employing the strategy of guaranteeing peace by making the prospect of war seem hopeless in the eyes of the Sea Snake. Who thought possessing two dragon riders and a fleet could bring the whole of House Targaryen to the table of bartering and bargaining in his favor.

Thus, why Gaemon was not soft on rebellion. If you were soft on rebellion, it would just grow...like f*cking weeds.

Gaemon had these reasons near the forefront, but what was at the forefront was ensuring the peak of their power was maintained in the eyes of the Houses and people of Westeros. Unlike others who saw either the small or big painting, Gaemon saw or did his best to know and see every detail of the painting.

Everything Jaehaerys built was theirs. Despite the man's apparent faults that angered Gaemon to no end, he built it for them and meant it for all of them and those who came to be born within their House.

Gaemon knew that the moment Jaehaerys died, they would try to take it away from them...all of them. He had said as much when his grandsire questioned him on the matter privately one night on the throne. It was a certainty that when Jaehaerys death came, many would merely wait in line and come to glimpse upon the Old King to see if the man was truly dead. To see the coins for the boatman on his eyes to know it was certain. Once they had verification, Gaemon knew that they would surely set to work on tearing them apart.

Despite the peace Jaehaerys forged, many voices still disliked House Targaryen and its customs, alongside its gods, incestuous ways, traditions, dragons, and the Conqueror himself for making them all kneel. Even the Faith Gaemon disliked and chastised harshly at the edge of a sword had still before that and after, in quiet halls and secret cellars, continued to name the whole of their House as abominations and the gods' mistake. Some of Jaehaerys's decisions even added to the pile, namely those concerning the Baratheons and Velaryons.

Their perception and actuality of strength needed to be reaffirmed and shored up, and Makaer, it seemed, did just that by claiming Vermithor and helping Gael claim Dreamfyre where he failed.

“It was a proper move on my brother's part. Moreover, it was our grandsire’s wish in his endeavor,” spoke Gaemon, finally voicing his response to this news. “House Targaryen has dragons, but them not having riders and allowing them to waste away in a pit that stunts their growth and health only makes us look even more foolish, weak, and otherwise willing to lose vital resources,” said Gaemon, continuing and looking bothered as he did so.

A sigh of irritation now escaped his lips before he continued to speak.

“The dragons are not animals to be stabled like mere common horses to the ground. They are our companions, our family, and assets to having control over this accursedly tumultuous continent and should be allowed to fly freely as beings of the sky,” says Gaemon further. “I hate speaking of the dead in such a manner, but your father, amongst other things that I would name him, was very much a foolish man to allow that place to be finished in being built. It should have been torn down brick by brick,” said Gaemon bluntly.

Maegelle nodded. She silently agreed with him and took a lock of her husband's hair into her hand.

Gaemon had always hated the Dragonpit. The lone reason it had been built in the first place was that the maesters that Maegor kept at his court that he didn’t kill proposed constructing a den for the dragons to be housed at.

It didn’t make sense to Gaemon that a man like Maegor would build such a place, a stone stable for the dragons. Especially when it concerned who he was raised by and how the Old Valyrian texts on Dragonstone stated that the dragons needed no such places but the sky and fields to make a nest. Even the song passed down to them for thousands of years speaks of their mounts flying freely and beautifully.

Gaemon would dwell on this further if he could but chose not to. Instead, he turned to one detail that was strange to him and needed an answer to.

“I assume Maekar left so quickly with his retinue because of troubles in the Dornish Marches or close to it, correct?” asked Gaemon, changing the subject from his grandsire while circling back to Maekar.

He noted that Maegelle perked up, seeming glad to a certain degree for the change of subject when it moved away from her father.

“More like your brother who shared a womb with you has concerns about the Reach that he would have put to bed permanently himself,” answered Maegelle.

There was a measure of vexation that began to grow in her voice.

“House Tyrell, it seems, has been having trouble for quite some time now after the Fourth Dornish War in reigning in their “overmighty” bannerman, the Hightowers,” said Maegelle.

Promptly attaining Gaemon’s full and undivided attention now with what she was speaking.

“At first, it was well controlled and beginning to lessen when you were here to balance against Ser Otto as Hand when you were made both Royal Prince Regent of the Iron Throne, House Targaryen, and King's Landing and the Lord Commander of Westeros immediately by my father after Baelon passed and until an heir was chosen at the Great Council…” spoke Maegelle, trailingly. “...yet after you disappeared and father died two years after with Viserys ascending the Iron Throne, the issue got more alarming.” said Maegelle, taking a moment to breathe in. “Otto began becoming quite comfortable in his position as Hand and making decrees that while it did not publicly implicate partiality, did discreetly show some of Otto’s motives to those with properly working eyes,” said Maegelle with a knowing glance.

A glance that discreetly and mockingly referred to the blind one she was referring to…

…Viserys.

“Such as?” questioned Gaemon with slightly furrowing eyebrows.

Pointedly wanting to know.

“Favoring allies to House Hightower, such as the Lannisters and Houses in the Reach.” began Maegelle, answering. “Those prominent of the latter being the Ambroses, Fossoways, Gracefords, Leygoods, Norcrosses, Peakes, Redwynes, Risleys, Roddens, and Roxtons,” says Maegelle, indicating which Houses.

Gaemon scoffed lightly at this but also tucked the names of the Houses away for a later time when he could get closer to the situation.

“Not a f*cking surprise there in the grand realm of Westeros,” said Gaemon quietly, with cold mockery layering his tone.

He never bothered to hide his visible disappointment at hearing this as he looked downward at nothing.

“Alongside that, reducing tariffs on Oldtown while raising them on other key port cities and trade-dependent Houses across the realm such as the Manderlys and Velaryons,” said Maegelle, bringing this to light.

Provoking Gaemon to breathe in deeply and out through his nose before speaking.

“I can assume House Manderly and Corlys didn’t take this kindly, nor did those affected by it?” asked Gaemon curiously, but already knowing the answer.

Maegelle shook her head to indicate no.

“The Sea Snake and the other lords did not, and neither did your brother Aemon and Aelyx, who put an end to it,” answered Maegelle, confirming his answer as she shifted to straighten her back while sitting in his lap. “Actually, if I recall accurately, the former of your two younger brothers went as far as to employ and command his fleet and the control he has on vast trade to undo the damage.” persisted Maegelle with what his brothers did. “Moving beyond this in retaliation to squeeze hard on the Hightowers, Lannisters, and Redwynes when it came to the issue over this. Regardless, this wasn’t even the worst of it that forced Viserys to intervene and bring things down to a calm…” said Maegelle, finishing trailingly, disappointment becoming evident in her voice.

The instantaneous effect of hearing this forced Gaemon to freeze at what he had just heard her utter.

A moment later, his head raised quickly to look at her. All the while, his mind focused on a certain point in all of it.

“What do you mean…forced…to intervene?” asked Gaemon slowly with a dark look behind his eyes.

A measure of fiery anger building up within him as he asks the question.

Maegelle made no move to articulate but merely gave her nephew and husband a hardened countenance as she stayed to course. Doubtlessly and resolutely staying strong on what she said before.

“What do you think I mean?” asked Maegelle calmly in return to this.

Her soft tone was gone now and was replaced by one of apparent and utmost gravity.

“I don’t know…” begins Gaemon calmly with a shrug of his shoulder and slightly widened eyes before they returned to usual. “...yet it sounds like you're implying that Viserys hasn’t been doing a well enough duty as king on the Iron Throne despite being chosen at the Great Council,” said Gaemon, growling out.

Accusing her and ending his accusation with a frown on his countenance.

“I know my elder brother is many things, as we’ve both seen...” began Gaemon, to which Maegelle inclined her head in acknowledgment. “...but for him to blunder it so much more as the successor to your father’s legacy of a long reign of peace…would be like saying that a fanatical madman on the throne that was more septon than king made an eight name-day child High Septon because he believed the boy could perform miracles,” said Gaemon continuing while comparing how much Viserys would have to mess up to an impossible actuality that would never come to be. “I just can’t conceive my brother Viserys being that wholly inept in his role as king,” said Gaemon, finishing, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

He couldn’t fathom it. He couldn’t fathom it to this extent. Not with all they learned, all the lectures their father gave them time and time again repeatedly.

“The Targaryen who sits the Iron Throne is not just a king or a queen, Gaemon. They are a protector of the realm…”

Even now, the words of Gaemon's father rang clear to him from memory. They were words spoken to him and his elder brothers about a question he asked as a boy while still learning the way of things.

So, for a man who liked to study his history well and reminded everyone of such a trait about him as Viserys did so often, drove Gaemon to wonder what in the Accursed Seven Hells Viserys was doing since ascending to the Iron Throne.

“Yet, all the same, if I’m saying this, then you know it to be true. This, you know,” said Maegelle pointedly.

Gaemon breathed deeply while agreeing silently. Allowing silence to pass between them as he contemplated her words.

‘Yes, this I know…all too well, that is.’ thought Gaemon, removing a hand from her and to his face to rub both his eyes. “Aye, this we both know, Maegelle,” said Gaemon finally.

Emphasizing the word concerning her and him to demonstrate that they were both a part of this before falling silent once more.

While Gaemon did expect some unpreparedness from Viserys once he sat on the Iron Throne, he could not fathom the possibility of it being as bad as Maegelle was hinting at.

They both understood Viserys had issues, which they knew all too well from their respective positions, such as his untamed appetite and desire to eat and drink constantly. Viserys was always hungry and thirsty for no reason beyond the lavish sustenance afforded to him and laid before him as a prince. Decadent would be the right word to describe that behavior.

Somewhat like Gaemon was himself; the only difference was that Gaemon moved around and performed exercise daily. He got things done and performed his duty.

When circ*mstances allowed it, Gaemon would pace about the Red Keep for long stretches of time so that he could think, contemplate, and focus his mind. He read, toiled, observed, and performed in every field that he could to be of the utmost use to the dynasty. Besides that, he spent most mornings and days sweating it out in physical and blade training.

Accursed it be to the Seven Hells, he even kept his urges, personal desires, and wants in check. Better than both Viserys and Daemon had done.

At sixteen name days, the two of them both spent most of their time f*cking their way through most of the brothels on the Street of Silk. Whereas Gaemon, at sixteen, had to help his grandfather with the realm and settle the matter of his succession before he died. Even before that, he refused to go to the brothels at a young age when they tried to drag him along because he was so enamored with Maegelle.

Gaemon had his lust, which he knew well, but he knew what such activities on the Street of Silk did to a man, and Daemon was such a person.

His second elder brother, Daemon, had a depraved taste for deflowering young maidens and girls. Particularly young girls on the Street of Silk with silver-gold hair, as he had heard many times from rumors from the Street of Silk. This had worried him for obvious reasons.

Sometimes, when he observed the Rogue Prince, Gaemon noticed that Daemon’s fingers would move uncontrollably, with compulsive wandering, when lust took hold of him as if he couldn't control the movements of his body.

This mainly happened when the man looked at Rhaenyra, their young niece, who hadn't even reached her tenth name day...

The way Daemon did so made Gaemon sometimes reach for the pommel of his sword.

Daemon looked upon Rhaenyra as if she were some dessert he was waiting for to be prepared and presented fully in time.

Or a fruit, for that matter, that he was waiting to see ripen...

Gaemon understood that their traditions deemed they wed from brother to sister, cousin to cousin, uncle to niece, and aunt to nephew in order to keep their bloodlines pure; this he knew. Yet Daemon…he had a particular darkness to him that bordered on a remarkable feeling of disgust so strong that it made Gaemon, an incestuous Valyrian, and Targaryen in blood, just might retch.

Daemon was a beast ruled by his hunger and his lust.

Lacking the ability to control himself but, on the other hand, bearing the self-control enough to control others adequately.

A sight it seems that Viserys had in common with his younger brother, the Rogue Prince, since Viserys’ style of entitlement only got worse with time.

And when he was officially wed to their cousin, Lady Aemma Arryn, it exploded and reached its apex with his wants and desires in the bedchamber.

Gaemon knew all too well of it, too, as he was forced to interfere.

After Rhaenyra had been born, the maesters instructed both Viserys and Aemma not to engage in the act of bedding one another for a year. It was a time that was made for Aemma to heal and allow her to rest from the labor fully. And Viserys acting like the proper Andal dog that he was instead of the Valyrian man and prince, did not heed this and chose instead to treat her like a whor* who he could come to whenever his balls were blue. So when Gaemon finally heard of it from Aemma after noticing how she acted for some days and that Viserys was taking her rather forcefully, and she stated it was because his elder brother wanted another child beyond the beautiful girl Aemma gave him, Gaemon lost it. His rage was awakened.

He immediately left Aemma’s chambers despite her begging him not to or to tell anyone to search for and find his brother.

When Gaemon did find Viserys, his rage had not abated. Instead, it grew, and Gaemon got lost in it.

He loosened a tooth and bruised the side of his brother’s face with a hard single punch, then raised up his elder brother and headbutted him hard multiple times. He then spilled blood from Viserys’s face that reddened both of Gaemon’s hands as he rained punch after punch on his face until it darkened both of Viserys’ eyes. The left was so bruised that day that it had to be temporarily left closed for two weeks. The last act of brutality Gaemon took to performing on Viserys that day was his breaking his right wrist and taking to breaking the man’s fingers on both hands, one by one, slowly in an undisturbed manner.

Gaemon had been a man possessed that day. And an inkling of pure hatred on the long road to absolute loathing began to grow within him for the man he had an ever-developing shame to call his elder brother, just like Daemon, and would one day have to call his king.

If fate and the gods had allowed it, Gaemon would have taken that hammer and gelding knife to his elder brother’s teeth alongside his co*ck and stones, respectively, that day in his rage. Yet it seemed the gods had other plans for him and his brother Viserys that day.

Had it not been for his father Baelon, Uncle Vaegon, Uncle Valerion, Lord Corlys, Lord Boremund, Lord Rodrik Arryn, the Kingsguard, members of the Targaryen household guard, and his younger siblings removing him from Viserys and restraining him, Gaemon would have unmanned and broken him.

Nevertheless, turning away from this delving of recollection of the man’s qualities and past actions, he noticed Maegelle gave him time to calm himself. He appreciated this but decided to press forward now.

To hear what it was that the man who was king had done to add to an already lengthy list of things Gaemon had liked not about him.

“I assume it gets worse than what you’ve already told me?” asked Gaemon now with a look that expected much in that.

Silently, he already knew the answer to his question. He just partially held out on hope that it wasn't as bad as he reckoned it to be.

“Yes…which begins first with the man’s actions in raising taxes on Houses that ostensibly support House Tyrell,” answered Maegelle.

“And my elder brother…has been very much fine with this?” asked Gaemon.

Breathing in and out slowly to calm the irritation that was growing within him.

“That’s the whole issue, Gaemon. Your brother has not been the king he should be,” begins Maegelle with a sad frown. “Much of the tedium of rule under Viserys, unlike with my father, has been left largely to the small council. Which by extension means Ser Otto Hightower’s small council of one. Since no one else, except for Aemon, Valerion, and Aelyx, alongside Lords Lyman Beesbury and Lyonel Strong, from time to time, have been combating and balancing against the Hand’s decisions,” said Maegelle, gravely divulging.

Pushing Gaemon to shake his head at such a blatant act to attain unofficial authority over the Reach.

“From what I’ve also been able to gather, it would seem, Lord Hobert Hightower, these past years has been evidently making tentative explorations amongst lords and other Houses,” said Maegelle, persisting, making Gaemon turn his head to her. “To what end, you might ask? I haven’t a clue,” answered Maegelle quickly before Gaemon could get his question out.

Which forced the young prince to nod and turn his head away. Even this gave him pause.

Why was the lord of House Hightower making tentative explorations?

“All I know is that a border was drawn when Otto chose to go after an attempt to dissolve our rather unique marriage and the other ladies of it. While also pushing to reduce the power of not only the North and your siblings' territories but also raise taxes on them alongside other demands,” said Maegelle, finally getting to what was the worst of it.

Hearing this immediately made Gaemon’s thoughts halt as he turned his head back to Maegelle. So quickly that he almost collided his with hers in his haste.

“He tried to do what?!” asked Gaemon, his tone of voice raising.

His eyes were now alight with a fury in them as his blood rushed quickly and hot as well.

“Aye,” answered Maegelle affirming. “Aemon, Valerion, and Aelyx were livid with the man when he spoke this and his reasons, and they were all met immediately with harsh disapproval by the three. Especially when our union was legally accepted and written into law as acceptable; only Viserys, being the fool he is, didn’t see it that way. Stating that he would take it under consideration before making a decision,” said Maegelle, conveying to him. “Your brother, Aemon, didn’t even allow it to go this far and placed an ultimatum before him,” told Maegelle.

Falling silent now as she made Gaemon grow impatient.

He wanted to know what the outcome was and what had happened.

“Which was?” asked Gaemon quickly.

“That if Viserys chose to move against our marriage due to his personal distaste of it, tried to reduce necessary strength needed in other kingdoms and territories under direct Targaryen governance, and was all the while willing to increase taxes and enflame lords and smallfolk alike to please his Hand…” began Maegelle gravely. “...that Aemon and your siblings, alongside Lord Rickon Stark and the North, the lords and ladies of the Dragonlands, and the lords of Dornish Marches and further south would have no choice but to secede from the Iron Throne as both loyal subjects and vassals and become independent kingdoms once more,” revealed Maegelle.

The reaction to this was an instant.

It made Gaemon’s jaw drop open reasonably and even more shocked him beyond what he could imagine.

“He declared that…?” asked Gaemon silently.

Was his brother mad, or was he trying to get himself killed? He knew Aemon would defend him in his absence; that's what they all did for each other. But this?

Aemon did not voice such actions and intents unless he felt the need to. Which Gaemon wondered what in the Accurseed Seven Hells Viserys had done since becoming king to push their younger brother to such a point. By Balerion's co*ck, Aemon was the calmest one out of all of them and was not so quick to anger.

“He did, and Valerion and Aelyx supported him,” said Maegelle, answering with a nod. “The other side of this ultimatum was that if Viserys didn’t want this to become a reality, he would drop the matter there and now and never speak of it or move against it or you again. That they could continue with the peace Jaehaerys ushered in as before,” said Maegelle, adding.

Gaemon looked at her silently for a moment before asking the question.

“Which did Viserys choose?” asked Gaemon quietly.

His heart quickened further in its beating and seemed to grow even more. The breathing through his nose as well.

A sight that it seems Maegelle noted immediately and made an effort to wrap her arms around his shoulders tightly. All the while…

…her face morphed from a calm expression…

…to…

… an enormous smile on her face.

One that calmed his heart a bit alongside her arms.

“Your elder brother chose the latter,” revealed Maegelle calmly and happily.

Allowing Gaemon to release a breath that he had been holding for a bit.

A darker part of his mind, concocting potential roads of retaliation, had also faded away at the possibility of Maegelle answering that Viserys chose to side with Otto and agree with his suggestion.

A move it seemed that Otto only dared undertake in the attempt when Gaemon was not in their presence. Something else that he pocketed now and would use later in the future. Retaliation would be embarked.

“Our polygamous marriage remained intact. His suggestions of disassembling martial power in Targaryen-governed territories were put down. The raising of taxes never came to be, and the matter altogether was settled and never brought up again,” said Maegelle, merrily answering. “From what my brother told me, Viserys even went as far as to rebuke Otto for such conduct. Interfering with matters, agreements, stipulations, and laws already agreed to, written, settled, and set in stone by my mother and father. Ones both before his time and after he became Hand,” said Maegelle with an expression that showed joy.

He was happy to hear this from his beloved wife’s lips, but it nonetheless made him scoff a little.

“Hmph…I wonder why that was?” asked Gaemon, not to her in particular but in contemplation.

While Viserys did agree to Aemon's ultimatum and never brought up the matters the Hand tried to achieve dominance over again, Gaemon still couldn’t see his elder brother reprimanding Otto Hightower. If Viserys did rebuke the man, he only did it lightly. That was his nature. Viserys was always a pliable and weak-hearted wyrm, alongside other things that came with reason.

The first and greatest, in particular, that comes to mind was when Viserys used to sing the man’s praises at every turn. Not only to their father but also to the rest of the family at dinner when they were still both princes. When the Hightower was just another noncontributing faceless courtier amongst all the rest in Jaehaerys’ court.

It was a problem and concern even then how much Viserys considered the man a friend and unwavering companion to one day serve, and it was a more significant problem now.

“Viserys doesn’t usually reprimand his “unwavering” and “loyal” friend and servant of the crown who is now acting as his Hand…” started Gaemon sardonically.

The second reason behind this line of thinking for Gaemon came when Viserys invited the man to dine with them in 94 AC during a time when their father still lived. Gaemon had been remarkably silent that night, and his frustration only increased as the night progressed and he watched Otto Hightower. The only ones who seemed to notice were his father, mother, uncle Valerion, aunts, and even his grandmother Alysanne, who all quietly noticed his silence and that he hadn’t even touched his food or drunk anything. Their family spoke to one another as usual, and they made an effort to talk to Otto Hightower that night. It only became a problem when Jaehaerys spoke to scold Daemon about an issue that occurred in the yard earlier that day.

“...and moreover doesn’t even trouble himself to defend his own blood from the man’s opinion that taints his. Instead, Viserys either acquiesces or fully agrees with Otto on most occasions or finds amusem*nt in what is said,” persisted Gaemon as his face got a bit more aggravated at recalling the event.

Daemon had not had the opportunity to speak because of how surprised he had been, and Otto, seeing the chance to jump in, expressed that Daemon was always prone to cruelty. Saying that his actions in nearly killing men in the yard were already his daily routine. Viserys said nothing in the matter and merely chuckled, practically confirming the man’s words on the matter. This so angered Gaemon that before Jaehaerys could speak to scold his rogue older brother, Gaemon spoke quickly to come to Daemon’s defense in a scathing manner, surprisingly.

“And you yourself have witnessed this all? I find that hard to accept, particularly from a man who was nothing more than just another faceless and unproductive courtier among the many here at the Red Keep up until this very night. One who was only just invited and had the privilege of dining with us this night because of my elder brother Viserys’ patronage. Which is why I’ll assume you heard it from him since his careless chuckling is a contributing element to my assumption on his equally careless tongue.”

“I’ll allow it only this once, but never presume you have the liberty to speak on subjects regarding this House or my brother again, ser, lest you want to retain your tongue. Involve yourself with you and your own from here on out.”

“Particularly when your House hasn’t made any endeavor to put itself to order and has so far contributed nothing to this dynasty besides past grief with your own efforts of doing nothing to halt the Faith Militant Uprising to the very House you and your Faith swore obedience and loyalty to.”

Gaemon had only been nine name days when he spoke this to Otto, and the look of anger he gave the man only intensified his display of feelings about the Andal for all of the family to glimpse.

“He’s always been…well…” said Gaemon, trailingly attempting to find the proper words, a weary sigh escaping his lips and a shrug of shoulders coming forth. “...Viserys has always been a disappointment. There’s no other way to word it, and I won't deny it,” admitted Gaemon in a somewhat despairing tone.

Remembering now how it was the look of unadulterated loathing and disappointment he reserved for Viserys, however, when his eyes shifted instantly toward him that night. Making it plain for all to equally notice how far Gaemon’s view of his elder brother was declining with each day. His eyes conveyed it all in their hardened nature, revealing Gaemon's vexation at how considerably he looked down upon Viserys instead of looking up to him as a younger brother should. His elder brother’s amusem*nt had fled him quickly that night upon looking Gaemon in the eye, and his skin became pale as a mare’s milk from the fear he felt.

Regardless, the disappointment towards Viserys and the message, warning, and threat towards the lowly second son of the Hightower was made apparent to everyone at the table that night. Gaemon didn’t bother to stay after speaking that and merely left the room they were dining in for his own chambers without Jaehaerys’ leave. Something that the previous king himself spoke on, and Gaemon, in turn, derisively stated he didn’t need it from him nor cared to acknowledge.

Furthermore, Gaemon said that he was finicky about the company they held at their dinner table. Voicing lastly, next to this, that the Andal second son of House Hightower, unlike Septon Barth, did nothing to deserve such an honored spot at the table to dine and converse with the royal family with such ease and familiarity as if they had known each other for years. That even the latter understood not to concern himself with inner matters involving it.

This also played a role in the third reason why his opinion of Viserys fell low when it came to Otto and almost everything and why he looked down upon him as his kin. Viserys took Otto’s words as if they damn accursed scriptures.

Whenever Viserys flapped his lips like a damn bird about problems regarding the royal family to the second son of the Hightower, Otto would somehow always be there to express his opinion. An opinion that was nothing more than the poison twisting of Viserys’ perception of his family.

Gaemon noted that this made Viserys partial, biased, uncertain, and questioning against every one of his own blood. Including those of the like in their nimble-witted uncle, Archmaester Vaegon, and even his own wife, Aemma, if it wasn’t “well-grounded” counsel akin to that came from Otto Hightower.

Which brought on Gaemon’s present predicament.

“Regardless, it does confuse me,” confessed Gaemon to Maegelle. “Next to his reasons and quickness for bending to Aemon’s ultimatum. I can not grasp an answer for that,” said Gaemon truthfully as he looked upward.

Silence passed between them as Gaemon thought more about why. The fire from the fireplace crackled as stillness overtook the room until Maegelle spoke and brought him out of his thoughts.

“Maybe it's because of your popularity amongst the lords and smallfolk and how Viserys doesn’t want issues to arise from that?” asked Maegelle, offering an answer to Gaemon.

His attention turned back toward her, and his eyes were quiet, contemplative. Gaemon said no words yet, but he looked down at her eyes now and raised his brow skeptically.

“I doubt it’s because of that, Maegelle,” said Gaemon doubtfully.

His words brought quietness back into the room before it was broken by Maegelle's laughter, which seemed to indicate that she enjoyed what he said.

After a few moments, the laughter from her lips calmed down entirely, allowing Maegelle the chance to speak again.

“Gaemon, do you truly not realize how popular you are?” asks Maegelle, posing this question to him now with a smile on her face mixed with a measure of bafflement. “Gaemon, you were one of the fifteen claimants at the Great Council of Harrenhal,” said Maegelle, reminding him of this actuality. “The proof of that popularity lays in that alone and with all your actions in the past,” said Maegelle further.

Gaining a wince out of Gaemon at remembering the event and fact.

“A claim which I renounced immediately on the second day after when it was presented,” said Gaemon with matching recalling in his voice.

“Yet nonetheless, your popularity amongst the Houses after that increased beyond reckoning and was thickened with your Trial by Forfeiture,” voiced Maegelle, further proving the fact.

Her words brought on another sigh as Gaemon remembered the Great Council. That accursed council.

It had evolved to become a thorn in his side. Not only for the dynasty in certain lights but for him personally when it concerned those who coveted that damnable iron chair.

The one on which Gaemon refused to sit in the past as Royal Prince Regent and Lord Commander of Westeros if he was not wearing armor. It was a seat of swords, and he wished to get cut not, which was why he wore damn armor.

“That was merely myself performing my duty to the realm," spoke Gaemon humbly. “For your father and his succession and nothing more, Maegelle,” said Gaemon dismissively.

Turning his head away from her gaze now.

“That was you being a king in all but title and a crown to the entirety of the realm!” Maegelle said in return, with a small roar, expressing herself firmly now.

She removed her right hand from his shoulders to seize his chin and make his face turn towards her.

Compelling him to look her in the eyes. Those eyes of undying loyalty as she spoke again and softly now.

“My king…” said Maegelle low and lovingly.

That tone silenced him. That tone of absolute devotion that Maegelle reserved only for him and that Gaemon gave back to her. That tone which had bordered on the possibility of treason and undertaking betrayal of an entire House for him as he did unto her.

It was one that came about built on trust, trials, tribulations, and acts of love, which strengthened their bond over the years.

“Yes…and yours alone,” said Gaemon, agreeing somewhat.

Returning the same affection in his tone that she gave him while placing a loving kiss on her lips before slowly pushing his forehead to rest on hers.

His eyes closed alongside hers, and his words reminded Maegelle that he would be no one else’s king except hers.

A decision that he had already known Maegelle was quite content with.

Gaemon loathed that he was even a claimant at the Great Council.The event that he was assigned to preside over, provide protection for, and act as a deterrent for war at as instructed by the Old King. He was already enraged at the Great Council being called in the first place because of others' actions of defiance and his failure to subdue those who defied his grandfather properly. Furthermore, he was frustrated even more at being ordered by Jaehaerys to go there and preside over it with an army of 150,000 strong. And with Gaemon being the third of the three claims truly being regarded for the Iron Throne, it only enriched his vexation.

Many before and at the Great Council saw and looked to him as the more suitable man and choice. The greater claimant over his older cousin Rhaenys and older brother Viserys. Looking to him even as the claimant who carried himself appropriately as a monarch should.

The man who, despite his faults, had pulled his heart out for the preservation of the Targaryen dynasty and the dream of the state beyond the rabble of what it was.

The respect went so far that his name was put forward by the Houses of the North, the Dornish Marches, and the Dragonlands. Even Dorne itself chose to follow their lead in this with their support. For it was Gaemon, who gave the desert kingdom far south a possible stake in matters of the realm when talks of them joining the fold of the rest of the kingdoms began three moons before Jaehaerys announced his intentions for a Great Council.

Even those closest to him, such as his cousin Aemma, his aunts Daella, Gael, and Viserra, and the ladies Johanna Westerling, Amanda Arryn, and Rhea Royce, told him he should allow his name to stand as a claimant. All said in their ways that he should make his own play for the throne as he was a far more promising individual worthy of the throne.

His grandmother, Alysanne, however, was torn between the matter for complex and complicated reasons that she and Gaemon hadn't spoken about for obvious reasons. She and Gaemon argued about it amongst themselves, and after that argument, they did not talk to each other for the duration of the Great Council and after it. It wasn't a loss, given that while he loved his grandmother Alysanne, she was a bothersome annoyance. Here was a woman who, for all her talk of family, wanted Rhaenys named as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms because she felt her birthright was stolen upon his uncle Aemon's death on Tarth. It was so bad that he couldn't decide who he disliked more as both a people and monarchs of a dynasty, Jaehaerys or Alysanne.

The selfishness Alysanne had shown angered Gaemon so much that he nearly wanted to strike her but settled for upturning the heavy stone table in the chamber where their argument took place.

Not only was the Great Council called at a careless time that forced the mourning period of Baelon to be cut short, but it was also cut short because of everyone's selfishness over who would be the next to sit on that accursed chair made of swords. Gaemon couldn't even properly mourn his father due to other people's selfishness and Gaemon being called upon by his House to perform a duty.

Even after that, Gaemon could not properly mourn his father until he decided to leave Westeros. It hurt to acknowledge that, but his departure from Westeros helped him overcome much of his grief concerning his father. The most unmistakable indication came with the reality that Gaemon did not heavily wear all-black garments anymore as he started to do on his return from Dragonstone to lay his father Baelon to rest.

Going beyond this, others, like his brothers and sisters and his uncle Valerion and Vaegon, were wary of it. The reason for this was that they were already endeavoring to avert a civil war from starting.

Alongside this, they understood that both Daemon and Corlys would jump at the opportunity to be unruly and push for blood and conflict. And so would Rhaenys, the cousin, who Gaemon would have no problem overstepping any day, unlike Daemon.

Unlike other members of their House, Rhaenys was very much a woman willing to fight anybody at any time, which is something that Gaemon mirrored her in when it came to conflict. Yet, at the same time, at the Great Council, this was not something Gaemon wanted to become a reality. Gaemon knew Jocelyn would not forgive him if it came to that despite the disagreements and the great rift between mother and daughter, and neither would his uncle Aemon in death. In addition, for the sake of Alysanne, his mother and father, and the love he bore both Jocelyn and Rhaenys, Gaemon could not bear to hurt Rhae that way and possibly make her or himself a kinslayer.

All the same, all sides were equally equitable in their reasons, and they did not press him further on the matter. He did not like such conduct when hearing a person’s reasons. However, on the second day of the Great Council, Gaemon forfeited his name as a claimant for the Iron Throne after a long night without sleep and much contemplation. Much to the shock of not only the Houses that came but also those of the contenders and their supporters. Expressing firmly before those of the Houses gathered at the Great Council in Harrenhal that a great man or woman does not seek to lead; they are called to it.

Gaemon also expressed that his current calling was to ensure a peaceful transition for Jaehaerys, as he had summoned him to do, and that he would ensure the task was done.

This display of truthfulness all the more enflamed those of the Houses at Harrenhal. As many there for the rest of the Great Council’s duration whispered titles that they placed upon him.

Ones that he felt so very cursed with possessing.

Ones that went beyond others, such as Honored Descendant of Balerion and the She-Wolf Who Guards The Weirwood, Champion of Balerion, Tamer of Horses, and the Swift-Footed.

Ones he felt so very undeserving of…

…and much preferred never to hear spoken again by anyone…

…The King Who Should Have Been Chosen...

...The Last Valyrian...

...Shepherd of the People...

...The Crownless King...

So yes…he could see why Viserys was so swift to put down Otto’s attempts at him and, by extension, the House he was supposed to serve. Gaemon was too valuable and too much of an asset to be set against the present king on the Iron Throne, even in his departure.

And if the king were to set himself against his more prominent and more dutiful younger brother, who had been defending their dynasty long before he was even a king himself, what would that say about him? Especially for a man who wanted a legacy of his own and did nothing noteworthy before Gaemon's birth and in his entire life to achieve it except for marrying a woman who deserved better. Viserys would unite every House in the North, those in the South below the Neck, and those across the sea who supported Gaemon for the lands he gave them against himself.

Jaehaerys had made sure of that with his actions for grounds Gaemon still knew not when he pressed the title Sword and Shield of the Realm upon him after the matter of the Invasion and Annexation of Andalos was settled in the Trial by Forfeiture of 101 AC. Perhaps Jaehaerys saw the danger of Otto's closeness with Viserys before his father, Baelon, died. Or perhaps Jaehaerys was wary of him, saw the danger, and needed something greater than a sword to balance against him, a symbol that was undying.

Something that Viserys couldn’t afford to merely toss or send away when he got weary of suffering, as he did toward Daemon repeatedly from what he had heard.

All the same, Gaemon’s actions, his popularity, and Jaehaerys own efforts made sure that he retained considerable favor and respect across the realm. It was one that Viserys couldn’t afford to lose if he wanted his reign to go unchallenged and remain as peaceful as it was. Simply put, Jaehaerys’ actions, Gaemon's actions, and the acts of others effectively made Gaemon a dangerous man to tread and function around.

He was a prince who could very well influence entire regions and kingdoms to rebel against his elder brother, the king, if the threat behind Aemon’s ultimatum were true.

His remembrance of this was broken as Maegelle’s content sigh was heard in his ears, and she removed herself from the embrace of their touching foreheads. She looked at him now as he did the same to her upon opening his eyes.

“Then, for tonight…Your Grace…” began Maegelle playfully trailingly.

Gaining his attention now with a chuckle while moving her hand away from his face to wrap her hand with the other around his neck.

“...how about…no more talk of the realm until tomorrow. Hm?” asked Maegelle, finishing her question softly with a smile.

Giving to Gaemon now staring at her for a moment before he bowed his head and nodded slowly.

“That is most agreeable,” said Gaemon, presenting her with an equally soft smile.

His answer brought forth Maegelle providing him a single nod of her head. With this agreed to, Gaemon began to move while speaking.

“Let’s get to bed then.” starts Gaemon with a grunt. “We can speak more on these matters tomor…” uttered Gaemon slowly.

Cutting himself off as he felt a tightness around his back.

His intention to get up came to a quick halt when he fell back to sitting on the bed because he was unprepared to accommodate one element still tied to him…

…Maegelle.

He noticed the added weight on his body never left but settled further to him as he moved to raise himself up. All the while, Gaemon felt the newfound yet familiar sensation of a pair of legs tightening around his waist.

This initially confounded him, as he didn’t know why she did this. Yet when he turned his head to look at her and get an explanation, Gaemon found his answer right then and there, staring back at him as a pair of arms wrapped tighter around his neck.

For the gentleness that was upon Maegelle’s face was gone…

…replaced with a wicked smiling smirk that he knew all too well.

A hunger in Maegelle’s eyes that spoke of exactly how she wanted to spend this night before respite came.

“I do not crave sleep as of yet this night, husband.” Maegelle low and huskily began. “I crave something else, actually. Something far more pleasurable,” said Maegelle, breathing in deeply.

Her voice burning with lust and desire.

“Oh…?” asked Gaemon slowly, his breathing gradually growing at the suggestion of her words. “I thought you weren’t eager for that earlier, or tonight for that matter…” said Gaemon trailingly, remembering her earlier reluctance.

“I am now. Now that the girls are abed…” said Maegelle, quickly confirming while slowly leaning forward. “...let us continue where your lips left off upon me…” spoke Maegelle, continuing, gradually getting closer to his face.

The feeling of her breath now upon his lips.

“...and as for where your hands were on my arse…your co*ck can finish where they started…nephew,” said Maegelle, now upon him in his face and whispering on her nephew’s lips.

Heightening the beating of the heart in Gaemon’s chest at her words. His co*ck was beginning to come to life slowly from its slumber as well in his silk smallclothes.

Her scent also overtook Gaemon’s nose as she pressed herself strongly against his firm chest. Jasmine, it was that Maegelle smelled of.

“Aunt Maegelle…” began Gaemon harshly, whispering against his aunt’s lips. “...if you persist like this, you're going to cause a dragon to rise fully, and once it's awakened, there is no turning back…” said Gaemon, persisting trailingly, voice hardened chillingly.

His hands were on her hips, gripping them hard now and forcing him to feel her shudder in his hands.

“...so I implore you to cease what you're doing while you can. You don’t want to wake it,” finished Gaemon, rasping these words out.

“No…” replied Maegelle, firm and instantly whispering. “...I actually do,” said Maegelle.

Her lips afterward pressed against his now in a wild manner. Gaemon moaned at this and welcomed them. He had wanted that to be her answer as he felt her lips. Her sweet lips that he had kissed every chance he got since he was twelve name days and hadn’t felt their softness for four years until earlier this night and presently.

They sometimes played this little game when they wanted to lay together. One that he welcomed this night.

His hands moved to grip her wondrous backside as he pulled her to him tighter and nearer. At the same time, he widened his mouth and let Maegelle’s desiring tongue into it, relishing the sensation of her scouring him as much as he was her with his own wicked tongue.

Both had fought for dominance. Both had fought to have control…until they did not.

Maegelle’s lips removed themselves from his for a moment in order to speak.

“I haven’t had you in four years. Haven't felt your warmth, your touch, your skin, your spirit, your fire, your soul…” began Maegelle wantonly.

Beginning to undo the strings on his silk smallclothes with her left hand now.

“...haven’t felt your exquisite co*ck inside me since you left me that night all those years ago after seeding me…” said Maegelle, persisting.

Her fingers had undone the last string that kept them in place upon saying this.

Finishing the task she had set out to do.

“...I’m done using my fingers from this night forward,” declared Maegelle with finality.

Her hands came to hold and grab his clean-shaven face.

Forcing him to look her in the concupiscence held within her eyes as they were in his.

“I want you…and I want you now as you do me,” said Maegelle, whispering.

Her breathing became rapid now as his own did in harmony with hers…

…all she needed to do was say the words…

…the command he wanted, no…

…need to hear come from her lips.

“So f*ck me. f*ck your princess, Gaemon Targaryen,” ordered Maegelle.

~ Lemon ~

Anything that had been holding or restraining him had come undone at her command.

The strength of his body came back quickly like that of a lightning bolt as he easily lifted himself up with Maegelle still in his arms. Ravaging her lips with his own as he unwrapped her legs from him for her stand. Gaemon’s smallclothes fell from his waist and fell into a pile on the floor. Leaving him naked as he worked quickly to remove Maegelle’s outer robe before moving on next to her nightgown of translucent red-black silk. His urgency to feel her nakedness as she toward him with her currently roaming hands was intense and meant that her nightgown was torn from her body and thrown haphazardly across their chambers.

Once presented to him naked as the day she was born as Gaemon was to her, he removed his lips from hers. Stepping back and gazing upon the beauty that was Maegelle’s body with bated breath.

Drinking in her every feature, Gaemon studied her intensely.

Maegelle, who owned his heart just as Visenya did, was without equal from head to toe. The few lines that marked her face continued all over her body, and Gaemon liked that. His eyes swept next over her massive bosom and found them still without an inch of sagging. His eyes guided down to those shapely hips of hers.

Maegelle had perfectly plump arse cheeks to match her enormous breasts, and although her stomach was doughy, it was shapely and far from fat. Her thighs were large, wide, and giving, but her lower legs were strong, muscled, and strong. Her long neck, round face, and eyes gave her an altogether beautiful appearance, especially framed as it was by her long, soft silver-gold hair.

“Truly a goddess made flesh. The fairest one, if I should say so.” complimented Gaemon, rasping out. “Worthy of that golden apple from the old Valyrian tales on the judgment of it that started a war…” said Gaemon, trailingly as he moved forward to her. “...and all for me to enjoy,” concluded Gaemon as he licked his lips.

Maegelle smirked wickedly at this.

“Then enjoy aplenty, my comely nephew and husband,” goaded Maegelle.

And not being known for backing down, Gaemon moved forward to place his lips back on hers in an aggressive kiss. Intent on once more enjoying the sensation of her tongue being intertwined with his own.

Gaemon’s hand moved to grip her ass, pulling her close before easily lifting her into his arms with Maegelle's legs wrapping once more around his waist. Gaemon walked forward now to place her on the oaken table behind her, not far from the bed. Their lips, at this moment, moved not with the speed of urgency but were now slowed somewhat. Though the unquenchable roaring flame of passion that was hotter than dragonflame remained. Gaemon ignored the change in speed and instead focused on gently nudging her legs apart to settle himself between them.

Maegelle admired the deeply defined ripples of muscle and the scars that ran along her beloved’s body under her touch, just as Gaemon was equally admiring her body, enjoying the feeling of soft skin under his fingers.

He worked his way up to her bosom, the greatest objects of his desire next to her lips, vagin*, and arse. His hands immediately squeezed and kneaded the two large globes as if they were dough that needed to be made into bread, in the manner only she knew that was his touch and his alone, and Maegelle moaned heavily at this. To his hands, it seemed her breasts had gotten larger and more sensitive during her pregnancy and after nursing their children...and remained this way.

Gaemon couldn’t take his attention off of her tit*, and Maegelle smirked into his lips at such attention she was receiving as her hands roamed his firm back. He palmed her tit* and then went on to pull and twist her enormous nipples, which to his surprise, still leaked of mother's milk. Maegelle moaned throughout it all, and finally, she had just enough of this and pulled away from his mouth to grab his chin severely.

“Not this night…” began Maegelle with a gasping breath. “...we shall have our time for slow and sensual f*cking later…” promised Maegelle, her eyes clouded with lust. “...right now, you will take me. I want it hard and rough,” said Maegelle, demanding with a loving peck to his lips.

“As my princess…commands,” replied Gaemon, nodding with a heavy breath.

Speaking nothing further, he moves his hands to push Maegelle's legs apart further to take a long look between her legs at her sex. Admiring the ravishing, sumptuously substantial bush of downy silver-gold hair on her mound surrounding her vagin* that made him lick his lips with hunger.

Maegelle always did fancy to keep it thick and hairy, partly because of him. Gaemon loved that.

He loved a woman who kept a great bush at her sex.

However, that was not the object of his present aim as his hands trailed down her thighs.

As for what was? It was her cunny that he looked to presently. Finding it wet and glistening with arousal. A sight that he took in alongside these hips and thighs of hers. They were what he had dreamed of before and since their first coupling years before and even now.

He looked up from this after a few moments before looking up at her and seizing her by the throat roughly with his right hand.

Such roughness brings a smile of lust and mischief to grace her face. Maegelle knew how much Gaemon wanted to put his lips to her c*nt. To smell her scent, to use that exceptionally sinful and unholy long tongue of his to make her quake in a climax. To taste and drink in her nectar once more. It had taken a lot of restraint on his part, as Gaemon always had relished in his lustful desire to feast at a women’s c*nt.

But his wife’s commands were paramount and his to follow, and he would follow them as she knew he would.

He took his hard immense co*ck in hand and moved it closer to her core. Rubbing the head against the swollen bud of her slit and the lips, wetting it with her juices and teasing her. Pushing Maegelle to let out a small breath of ecstasy at this, her body trembling and shuddering with anticipation.

Gaemon made no move to wait for a moment and instead chose to enter her without pause, doing so slowly. Forcing Maegelle’s eyes to become half-lidded. She let out a low gasp before biting her lower lip. Her hands gripped her nephew’s shoulders harshly, and she felt it now.

She felt it in her beloved’s manhood; it had grown more in length. The great thickness of the girth had also, too, and the curve of the co*ck had become more significant and more notable.

‘Oh, by the gods...how he’s...f*cking...grown…!’ thought Maegelle with ardor, her breathing quickening as he placed himself further into her.

Maegelle moved her hips uncautiously, her eyes bulging at doing so. Widening at the familiar yet new, slight, sweet sting of being stretched by his girth. And she knew he was nowhere near close to sheathing himself inside her.

Gaemon let out a small grunt at the wetness of her c*nt as he entered. He reveled in it further as he began his slow and hard thrusts into her to get them started.

“Oh…” panted Maegelle.

Her eyes closed, and her legs locked around Gaemon’s waist again. Desiring to pull him further into her.

His thrusts started to go from slow to intermediate speed. Forcing Maegelle’s moan to become ampler with the increasing speed of his thrusts as Gaemon’s right hand stayed around her neck. And his left stayed where it was, too, holding her right teat to squeeze, tweak, and knead as he liked.

Yet Maegelle, on the other hand, opened her eyes fully after a bit of time. A lustful daze behind them, they were lit with a fire now at not feeling all of Gaemon inside her, which made Maegelle view her command as being disregarded entirely.

She now moved her left hand away from his shoulder to grab at his hair firmly and pull hard. Forcing his head back and upward to reveal his neck, which made him growl angrily at not being allowed to gaze at their intercourse, primarily when she cried out with pleasuring moans as he f*cked her.

“Have those four years across the Narrow Sea…made you soft in the ceremony of bedding and your hearing addled?” asked Maegelle with a harsh tone. “I told you to f*ck me good and proper. I want to feel it on the morrow. So do so,” said Maegelle, repeating her command but with more of her desire for what she wanted.

It made Gaemon somewhat angered at what Maegelle was saying and also made him fight against the hard grip to continue looking at her. He now moved to take his hand away from her breast to grab at her hair and do the same as she was doing to him. His thrusts became heavier and quicker with each snap of his hips, and his length delved further into her as his grip tightened on her silver-gold hair, and he pulled.

It was a strange war of tugging that both of them had gotten themselves into with their hair for a few moments before Gaemon was the one who won it out. Forcing her head back with a gasp that was accompanied by gritted teeth a moment later. Exposing her neck for him to now lower his mouth towards her to suck, kiss, lick, taste, and lightly bite at. Unrelenting in his f*cking her.

“It’s not enough…” said Maegelle, panting out again.

Gaemon cited the challenge of her words while growing tired of his present position and feeling it wasn’t enough for him or to his wife’s liking. So he decided on what he was to do next.

Gaemon raised himself up, pulled Maegelle up with him, and swiftly moved them both away from the table. He slammed her back against the double doors that led out to the balcony of their chambers to possess her against the doors.

Grabbing a hold of her neck as she defiantly looked at him, he pushed it back against the doors.

“Not enough…?” asked Gaemon, repeating her earlier words. “Then let’s see shall we if this position is enough to your liking…” said Gaemon sharply as he unwrapped her legs from around his waist. “...for you’ll take what I’m about to give you,” voiced Gaemon further and coldly, leaving no room for argument.

Now holding her legs open with his forearms resting at the inner area of her legs where her knees bent while his hands grabbed hard on the flesh of her outer thighs.

His promising words of action made her shudder, and before Maegelle could think further on what she had unleashed upon herself, she felt it. The first thrust inside her hot quim was slow and made her moan, and was the last one that would be slow from that point on. Gaemon’s speed picked up in quick order, making Maegelle writhe violently and wrap her arms around his shoulders in an attempt to steady herself.

“Oh…f*ck…” moaned Maegelle.

His hands firmly held onto her open legs as he began to pick up speed, grunting out heavily in pleasure as he did so. His sight focused on the shaking of her tit* and the shaking of her flesh. The force behind each thrust made her back push against the double doors, generating a loud sound of heavy wood colliding against one another.

Maegelle couldn’t hold back anymore. She had to give in.

Whether it had been the sexual appetite she had smothered these past fours or finally just feeling pleasure again from her nephew and husband, she didn’t know.

Something snapped within her.

The harder he f*cked her, the louder her cries grew.

“Oh, Gaems…f*ck….f*ck…f*ck…” panted Maegelle, doing her utmost best to meet his unrelenting thrusts with her thighs as hard as she could.

Covered in a build-up of sweat, Gaemon’s manhood seemed to harden further at her moans and her name upon his lips with them. It made him speed up his efforts as his grunts became louder.

“That’s right…that’s right,” uttered Gaemon, grunting out as he used his left hand swiftly to remove her hands from his shoulders. “A reminder…” started Gaemon, continuing to grunt as he moved his left arm to put Maegelle’s right leg over his shoulder. “...should you ever think…” said Gaemon, doing the same with her left. “...I’ve ever gotten soft…” continued Gaemon as he resumed his thrusts. “...in the ceremony…of bedding,” said Gaemon, persisting hard and strong now into her c*nt.

f*cking harder and more harshly with more than half of his length now inside her.

Maegelle was now at his mercy, and she surrendered everything to him. Her cries were loud and without shame. Her nails dug into the upper areas of his sides where she could reach, urging him deeper and faster.

“Kessa…kessa…qogralbar…” exclaimed Maegelle, her tongue slipping to High Valyrian now with every thrust of his hips. (Yes…yes…f*ck…)

She didn’t care if anyone in the castle heard them now. Let the castle know that she and her nephew-husband Gaemon were finally entwined together once more.

To be loud and loving in the martial bed like this was a good thing.

Gaemon moved his left hand away from their position, resting on her thighs, and moved it in between Maegelle’s legs to rub at her cl*tor*s with his fore and middle fingers. Working the sensitive bud to make her quake.

It made her writhe more while provoking her to sense that their coupling was coming to a close. She had to do something.

Maegelle removed her hands from his body to take his left away from her cl*tor*s and the other away from her leg. At this point, she expertly moved her legs off his shoulders and snapped them back together as they dropped back to their previous position, which was around his waist.

Such a move made Gaemon pause for a moment and made his eyes widen a little.

‘It almost hard to believe at times that she doesn’t have a drop of Dornish blood in her veins with an action like that.’ thought Gaemon, breathing hard with awe.

Maegelle’s movements spoke of what she wanted and how she wanted control over when and how it ended. Gaemon respected that and found it stirring.

He now moved them both away from the doors of the balcony to the nearby wall that was more stable and without shaking to continue his powerful thrusts inside her.

As her back hit the cold wall of their chambers, Maegelle heard the hiss and growl leave her nephew’s lips while his thrusts slowed somewhat. Yet the power and force behind them remained, for a particular thrust, one that fully sheathed his manhood inside her, hit the right spot as he thrust upward.

Provoking the immediate reaction of making her back arch and chest point outwards as she did so. A softer moan of what he hinted as verging satisfaction escaped Maegelle’s lips as she threw her head back, exposing her neck…she was close. He smirked as he sighted that while his lips connected once more with her neck as he whispered.

“Quake for me, aunt. Come around my co*ck.” incited Gaemon, soft yet firmly ordering her as he never relents in his movements.

She almost wanted to give in. A part of her wanted him to feel the velvet walls of her c*nt tighten and quake around his co*ck. While the other demanded that she do so from a position of conquest.

The latter won out, and Gaemon found his hair again being pulled by Maegelle, forcing his head away from her neck. Before Maegelle used the other, strike his face with the back of it, uncoiling her legs as she did so.

While Gaemon found himself surprised at such a move, and while it raised his blood, he felt he needed to respond with a similar roughness, such as presently taking hold of Maegelle’s shoulder and pushing her forward with force.

One that forces her to rush forward, unable to stop, slow, or control the speed of her movement, and causes her to fall face and stomach first onto the table. Her ass bent over and presented to him. Just as he wanted it to be.

Gaemon did not pause to drink in the sight but swiftly moved forward. Placing himself behind her as she began to raise herself, grabbing her once more by the hair. Forcing her neck to bend towards him as he slowly moved his lips to her face to kiss it roughly. Only to tighten his grip on her hair and push forward, forcing her to touch the table while bent again over it. Arse raised up and high.

As he now kicked both her legs apart to spread them for what he intended to do next…

…which was to possess on the table her from behind.

Lining himself up behind Maegelle’s spread legs, Gaemon didn’t take it slow as he had in earlier moments where he allowed it. In this position, there would be none of that. And with a swift thrust, Gaemon hilted himself deep inside her.

Causing both Maegelle and him to groan loudly in respective pleasure.

He held himself deep inside of her for barely a moment until Maegelle grew impatient and took the initiative to rock back against him. Colliding her thick ass against his hips quickly. A view that he matched with swift thrusts to f*ck her hard into a pleasurable soreness.

“Tolī…tepagon nyke tolī hen bisa…qogralbar nyke qopsa…” pleaded Maegelle in High Valyrian to him. (More…give me more of this…f*ck me hard…)

He grunted at her when she spoke the words in Valyrian. It was like a flowing liquid that poured off her tongue like a waterfall.

Though to hear them from Maegelle, the still exceedingly bright, gentle, compassionate, studious, and somewhat quiet princess that was his aunt who was once upon a time half a zealot to the Faith…

…he sometimes had to remind himself how lucky he was.

Especially with a woman like this who was as adventurous and passionate in the bedroom as he, who could take control and make demands, and had the want and capacity to be submissive and needed her partner to take charge.

That had always been the case, firstly, when they chose to lay together on the moon after his father had knighted him at the age of thirteen name days. For that entire week, they had discreetly f*cked in their respective chambers in the Red Keep well and deep into the night. Where it only then bled out into adventurous places over time where they could potentially find themselves being caught, such as f*cking on the throne of Dragonstone, in the chambers of and on the legendary Painted Table itself, and on the great altar in the Starry Sept at Oldtown.

Not because this had been planned but because they both couldn’t keep their damn bloody claws off each other. f*cking like rabbits wherever they went and whenever they could and could get away with it.

Something that was still the case as Maegelle presently looked back at as he f*cked her, and she f*cked him with the rocking of her hips. The matching engagement of both him and herself made him groan further.

The molten color of purple on purple of their eyes meeting each other. The fire burning brightly in the second fireplace across from the bed at the wall caught a glow in them, heightening their beauty. Yet beyond this was the dark look in them both individually.

The way Gaemon had taken Maegelle so far was an inkling of his intent, and the way she fought him in some lights indicated the mood of this act of coupling.

Both sought to be the dominant of the lot. The conqueror upon the conquered.

Yet Maegelle had always liked this position. Gaemon on top of her, behind her, and above all inside her, rutting away in her like a wolf did his mated bitch from behind while she rocked her hip and took it while he had given it to her.

She would have settled for that on some rare nights, but this night, upon his return, Maegelle would not. She was doing everything she could to meet Gaemon in all he did.

To f*ck him and f*ck him back when he took control in a position like this. To earn his climax once Maegelle had hers.

While she may preach to the Andal Faith, she was no Andal woman or princess of the pillow. One who laid there flat on her back and took it from her lord husband on top of her like a broodmare without the prospect of gaining pleasure or enjoyment herself in the act.

She was a pureblooded Valyrian Dragon Princess.

One whose fire needed to be met with a likeness.

Dragon to Dragon…

…Fire to Fire…

…Blood to Blood.

Something that Gaemon was in all circ*mstances, which came with the added gift of the ice in his veins inherited from his mother that stung as harshly as fire could.

A sight that showed itself clearly in their current coupling to not only achieve pleasure but conquest and dominance over one another.

Gaemon, at the present moment, now moved his hand away from her hair to grab her shoulder with the intention of pulling her up. Maegelle felt his brutal grip, and instead of giving in, she once more fought back. Using her left hand swiftly to touch his shoulder as he raised her up and used her legs to make movement by twirling them around and pushing him away. Hard enough to unsheathe him from her c*nt and make him stumble back into the table. Forcing him to fall on it with his back lying on the surface as Maegelle turned to him.

A determined expression on her features as she looked at Gaemon. Her thighs moistening and dripping with her arousal.

She moved confidently and swiftly toward him, and before long, Maegelle was climbing on top.

Bending her succulent knees as she sat on his torso and never took her sight away from him.

Maegelle reached back behind her and wrapped her hand around his long co*ck, pumping it fourteen times before lining it up to her soaking, dripping wet c*nt. His co*ck pushed inside of her puss* with ease, such was her wetness, but her velvety walls wrapped around his co*ck tightly with a firm grip.

He could feel her c*nt contracting around his length, and Gaemon let out a long and loud moan as she began to ride him, which was soon followed by a similar one from Maegelle as he began to move inside of her.

Gaemon’s hands settled on her waist as he let out groans while thrusting up from beneath her, and Maegelle had hers on his chest as she bounced up and down on his co*ck and gyrated her hips. It was a good rhythm that he set and he gradually increased the pace over time.

His hands soon enough found themselves ascending from her waist to take hold and grasp her breast in a firm, loving manner. Just as he felt Maegelle’s walls clench around him with each full rotation of her hips, it forced a pleasurable groan out of him while, at the same time, bringing surprise to his lust-clouded features.

“What’s…wrong…dear nephew…?” asked Maegelle, moaning the words wantonly. “Is it too…hah…much…for you…since our…mmm…last...f*ck...tumble?” asked Maegelle, whimpering out with a sultry, tired smile.

She looked down at him with her teasing and laughing eyes as she rode him like a proper dragon. Her long silver-gold hair was matted and sticking to her skin from the sweat on her body.

“If it…was…don’t you think…I would have…laid my...seed…by now…?” asked Gaemon slowly, doing his utmost best not to spill in her yet.

Maegelle leaned down and placed a hand on his cheek while she kissed up his neck and jaw before reaching his mouth.

“Do it…then,” commands Maegelle. “I know you are close…” said Maegelle, trailing.

She took his lips now, and they kissed. Swallowing the presently small moans of the other, especially Maegelle’s. Whose own would grow louder as soon as Gaemon chose to thrust upward at his fullest.

Hence why he now lowered his hands from her breast down to her waist and placed them on her round, thick ass. He gave her cheeks a squeeze just as his co*ck gave her a particularly swift and deep thrust, to which Maegelle moaned loudly into his mouth. Causing him to detach his lips from her own.

“Not until you cum for me…before I do…sodjisto .” declares Gaemon hotly. (aunt.)

As he now picked up speed, thrusting up hard and as fast as he could into her, intent on now f*cking Maegelle into her climax and through it to achieve his own.

The speed at which Gaemon went surprised Maegelle. Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Her jaw opened to the fullest extent until the air finally came back in moaning gasps. Intent on not only gaining air but also allowing her to moan out loudly as the pleasure came in droves from his efforts.

She leaned up from his lips to raise herself fully to meet his efforts with her own, bouncing and rolling her hips as she palmed his chest and began to clench her fingers. The first signs of her about to claw at his skin.

Maegelle couldn’t even form words to come from her mouth now. The speed of his rapid f*cking placed her in a position where she was half sobbing, half begging for more, and it only seemed to drive Gaemon further.

“Mmhmrrr…Grr..hrgh…nrgh…hrghahh…grrhahh…” he had too lost the will for words, favoring groaning and grunting like a wild animal, arching his back slightly the further he finally gave in.

His fingers would leave bruises from how hard he clutched her ass, that she knew. And she could feel herself and him getting closer and closer to their sweet release, respectively.

His hard, hot length inside her and the warmth of her snatch were incredible for both parties, and the man below the woman regretted more on his leaving. Something he was making up for now and would continue to do so.

Maegelle began increasing the speed at which she rode him till it looked like she was bouncing chaotically up and down on his co*ck. He met her with thrusts of his own, making her scream out without a care as to who could hear them, and he did not care either.

All the while, her fingers on Gaemon's chest finally drew blood.

“So big…so hard…you stretch my cunny so much…” moaned Maegelle with a satisfied smile.

He took his left hand from her arse to raise and bring back down in a resounding slap. One that surprised her with a delightful yelp.

Adding pain to her pleasure resulted in a growling moan as she looked down into his eyes as he met hers.

“Quicken…your pace, ñuha bāne aspo hen…iā beqes .” says Gaemon, growling out with his words slipping between the common tongue and High Valyrian. (my hot bitch of a sow.)

His words received not the immediate response of words but a more heated reaction from Maegelle, taking her bloodied hand and slapping him across the face.

The sting he felt from it was glorious and made him growl in a mix of pain and pleasure as his face turned back to her, teeth bared for in a feral smile.

“Gaomagon daor…udrāzma nyke, ao vaogenka…jelmōñe jaos.” says Maegelle responding in High Valyrian. (Do not…command me, you dirty…northern dog.)

Her words were understood, but they only enflamed Gaemon more, causing him to accelerate beyond his fullest in an attempt to break past his limits.

They were both breathing heavily, and it was clear that their climaxes would be soon.

A few more minutes later, of her riding his co*ck, and he impaling her with it passed.

Gaemon could see Maegelle's climax was imminent alongside his. His breathing had gotten harsher and quicker with each breath, and the rhythm of his thrusts faltered slightly in their stable pace, becoming erratic.

“Oh gods, yes,” moaned Maegelle with closed eyes. “Keep going! Just like that…just like that…” said Maegelle, her voice descending from a loud tone to a whisper.

“I’m…close.” gasps Gaemon with gritted teeth.

Maegelle pushed harder on his chest with her hands to keep him in place. Maegelle’s fingertips clawed at the skin once from the immense pleasure she felt building up to be cracked open and released.

She rode his co*ck up and down, intending to receive his seed alongside her quake, c*nt clenching around him to milk him of his seed.

“I’m almost there…I’m almost there! Come on, nephew, Gaemon, cum for me…” moans Maegelle down to him with her head thrown back. “Fill my c*nt. Fill up your aunt, and lay your divine seed in me…” goads Maegelle further and urgently.

The writhing of his body beneath her...a result of her enticing and goading Gaemon into doing so.

Gaemon clenched and flexed his neck hard so as not to burst yet and keep his eyes on her and her body.

He was keen to see their clouds burst open together, and Maegelle was making it hard despite being so close, so very near. Her c*nt was like all the female Targaryens of the family, burning hot to the point of it feeling like you were sticking your co*ck into a churning volcano.

Their insides burned, and they burned for each other.

No doubt a result of their ancestors altering and tampering themselves with blood magic or their own naturally enhanced worth given to them by Balerion and the others of the Fourteen themselves. Gaemon did not know himself and, right now, didn’t care.

Maegelle’s vagin* clung and gripped around Gaemon’s co*ck like how a snake swallows its prey whole, and at any moment, she was going to explode all over it and he inside her.

“...f*ck another of your babes into me…”

If anything had held back Gaemon's desire to finish, then it was long forgotten.

For it was this that would open the gates.

The words Maegelle spoke in such a husky, sultry tone of begging sent Gaemon into a frenzy and over the edge with the intent to now cum inside of Maegelle’s c*nt.

Grunting as he snapped his pelvis and hips forward, each thrust somehow more resounding and deeper than the last.

He f*cked hard and quickly into her without a moment’s rest, and before long, Gaemon heard and felt it.

“Gaemon! Oh! By all the gods! Yes! Yes!”

Maegelle cried out as she came first.

He felt her c*nt tighten around him as she moaned loudly, shuddering and writhing uncontrollably atop him as she came while holding onto him. Her inner thighs became wet from her cum, and it dripped down onto the black, silver-gold, and white-gold hairs of Gaemon’s sex and balls before landing on the oaken table they were atop. The tight sucking sensation was so fierce that it felt like Maegelle was trying to break off his co*ck and keep it there in her c*nt for her to keep.

Gaemon did not last much longer, and he finally gave in.

"Maegelle!"

With a deep groan, he threw his head back with an open mouth as he looked up to her and arched his back slightly. Burying his co*ck further in, he hilted himself into her warmth. His co*ck twitched as he finally released his seed into her c*nt with strong blasts that shot like lightning. Spilling deep inside Maegelle, cumming hard and quickly.

Shallow thrusts followed in quick order before stopping altogether alongside her shallow, gyrating hips as Maegelle breathed in and out quickly while falling forward onto him. Holding herself in place to gently rest her forehead against his as they breathe in and out.

Both clinging to each other tightly in an embrace as they made to recover from the best bout of sex they had had before and in their marriage in a while now.

~ Lemon End ~

As they both breathed in and out with the hotness of their breath touching one another’s face and they both still being connected with his co*ck inside her, Maegelle once again knew they were made a right fit for each other.

Two souls meant to be together with nothing keeping them apart. Two souls awaiting to be joined in an oath that would last eternally.

Maegelle knew Valyrians and Targaryens were made for each other. Just as their gods were meant to be one flame with one another. But being with Gaemon like this only solidified that fact for her as she held him, and he held her.

There was always a heady feeling when they expressed themselves to each other with acts of love in the bedchamber.

“Thank you, my great love…” whispered Maegelle against his lips as she kissed him lightly.

He kissed her back but was silent for a moment. Gaemon breathed in and out to grasp some air into his lungs before he spoke.

“There’s nothing to thank me for in what should be so freely given to a woman as precious as you…” says Gaemon, lowly yet strong.

Maegelle tiredly smiled appreciatively at hearing these words of his leave Gaemon’s lips.

It made her take hold of Gaemon’s face in her hands. Looking into his purple eyes. Seeming to admire the amethyst jewels he had possessed just as he admired her lilac ones in turn.

Love that had come long ago in the eyes and was spoken in a thousand ways that neither she nor Gaemon could possibly voice. No matter how many times they tried to.

“Kessa ao va moriot sagon lēda nyke? Sagon mēre lēda nyke?” asks Maegelle, whispering against his lips. (Will you always be with me? Be one with me?)

His arms snaked slowly up to her neck and face, gently holding their positions at the back of her head and on the left cheek of her face.

Gaemon had not spoken words yet, but all his emotions were visible to Maegelle as she stared into his eyes.

“Hae bōsa hae nyke paghagon. Se tolī bona, isse morghon, rȳ se perzyssy se qēlossās.” says Gaemon with promise in his voice. (As long as I breathe. And after that, in death, across the flames and stars.)

That was all she needed to know to nod and take his lips again. Slowly tasting his lips as he did hers.

Gaemon’s arms coiled down from her face around Maegelle as this happened. His right came to the small of her back as his left ran upward and laid at the back of her head. Enjoying the sensation of both her smooth skin and hair.

Comfortable melded with her as she was with him.

A lover’s was dance complete.