
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12231024.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, F/F, Multi, Other
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Myrcella_Baratheon/Jon_Snow, Lyanna_Stark/Rhaegar_Targaryen, Elia
      Martell/Rhaegar_Targaryen, Elia_Martell/Lyanna_Stark/Rhaegar_Targaryen,
      Jon_Snow/surprise_to_be_added, Jon_Snow/Rhaenys_Targaryen
  Character:
      Jon_Snow, Jon_Snow_|_Aegon_Targaryen, Myrcella_Baratheon, Cersei
      Lannister, Lyanna_Stark, Aegon_VI_Targaryen, Rhaegar_Targaryen, Tommen
      Baratheon, Tywin_Lannister, Rhaenys_Targaryen, Daenerys_Targaryen
  Additional Tags:
      Love, Marriage, Arranged_Marriage, Alternate_Universe_-_Rhaegar_won,
      Rhaegar_Lives, Jon_Snow_is_a_Targaryen, Jon_Snow_knows_nothing,
      Cunnilingus, Blow_Jobs, Period-Typical_Sexism, Underage_Sex, Period-
      Typical_Underage, Betrayal, Falling_In_Love, Facials, Anal_Sex, Domestic
      Fluff, Maledom, Femdom, Sex_Addiction, Rough_Sex, Pregnancy, Alternate
      Universe_-_Teenagers, Horny_Teenagers, Crownlands_-_Freeform, Iron_Throne
      -_Freeform, Porn, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Porn_With_Plot, Smut,
      Wincest_-_Freeform, Crack, R_plus_L_equals_J
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-01 Updated: 2017-11-15 Chapters: 3/? Words: 9947
****** Redden My Rose ******
by Daemon_Belaerys
Summary
     Myrcella Lannister is wed to Prince Daemon (Jon) Targaryen. The young
     couple quickly take to liking to each other, much to the joy of some
     ambitious lions.
     Or, Jon is called Daemon, and he and Myrcella fall in love and have
     awesome sex all the time.
     It's basically porn.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Myrcella Otherwise *****
                                     Tywin
 
Damn him, the inbred fool, Tywin thought furiously where he sat behind his
former desk in the office of the Hand. Ever since he had arrived with the might
of the Westerlands to aid Rhaegar on the Trident he’d done the best he could to
help the Targaryens once more. His arrival had seen the defeat of the rebels.
And was it not he who arranged for Aerys’ ‘accident’? The least Rhaegar could
do was to name him Hand. For eight and ten years since the Rebellion he had
served loyally and ably, and yet when he asked Rhaegar for his eldest son Aegon
to take his grand daughter Myrcella to wife, he was refused. 
 
“I cannot have Aegon wed the grand daughter of a loyal bannerman when there are
other Lords out there with daughters who are far more reluctant to serve my
family,’ Rhaegar had told him, and in front of the entire court no less.
 
It was at that moment Tywin decided, yet again, to resign from his position as
Hand of the King. He walked straight to his solar to write his resignation. The
fury and humiliation he had felt in that moment was so strong that he had
almost been tempted to order Clegane to have Rhaegar’s head off and be done
with it.
 
All his life Tywin had nursed the ambition of having his own flesh and blood on
the Iron Throne, but Aerys, the mad fool, and now his soft hearted son, had
both refused him. First Rhaegar wed that simpering weak Dornish Princess
instead of Cersei. A few years later he was refused yet again when Aerys
refused a match between Cersei and Viserys, and now Myrcella had been refused
too.
 
Why? he wondered. Had the realm not seen near four decades of peace and
prosperity in total under his guidance as Hand? It was not as if would be a
great chore for Prince Aegon to wed Myrcella. His grand daughter was young and
fertile having just seen her four and tenth nameday and her beauty surpassed
even that of her mother at that age. And unlike her mother she knew her place,
and was kinder beside.
 
Oh how Tywin had struggled with Cersei. The fuss she put up when he told her
that she would wed her cousin Daven had been so great that eventually he’d had
to threaten to send her to the silent sisters. She did obey him at the very
least, and seemed to have finally accepted her place in the family, having
borne three children.  Myrcella and little Tommen, and of course her eldest
Joffrey, now deceased. Joffrey, now there was a disaster. Never had Tywin
thought that he would despise a member of his family more than Tyrion but
Joffrey somehow managed it. At least the fool was dead before he could bring
more shame upon House Lannister, having been stabbed to death after murdering
five whores with a crossbow when visiting a brothel of all places... why oh why
was he cursed with such an abundance of fools in his family, he would never
know. It couldn't be the gods' revenge for House Reyne, could it?
 
A knock on his door, and an inviting King's guard, revealed his daughter. “You
sent for me father,” Cersei said as she crossed the room and seated herself
before his desk, filling a cup of wine for herself.
 
“Yes,” he said. “No doubt you’ve heard how the King refused my request to have
Prince Aegon wed Myrcella.”
 
“Arrogant fool. Where does he get off, turning their nose up at the Lion?”
Cersei spat. She had been quite enamored by the idea of having her daughter wed
the Prince, so in this case they were on the same side.
 
“In many ways Rhaegar is his father’s son,” Tywin admitted. “But all is not yet
lost. There is one last trick to play.”
 
Cersei smirked, “What are you thinking of father.”
 
“The Prince," Tywin explained, "for all that he seems eager to live up to his
namesake; the Unworthy kind.”
 
Cersei’s eyes were confused. “Where are you going with this?”
 
Tywin smiled coldly. “Myrcella is beautiful, and for all that the Prince tries
to play off as honourable and just, he is still a man. Pycelle informs me that
he takes many women to bed, with no hope to marry them. We can use this. Talk
to Myrcella. She must get the Prince into her bed, he’ll not refuse her.”
 
“NO!” Cersei screamed. “I’ll not have my daughter turn herself into a whore.”
 
“You’ll have her do her part for the family,” Tywin said coldly. “If the Prince
takes her to bed, all we need is to catch them in the act. Rhaegar’s son will
have dishonoured my granddaughter, so Rhaegar will have no option but to wed
the two of them. His strongest bannermen are the Westerners; he cannot
humiliate them.”
 
“But...” Cersei paused, she was torn between wanting the Prince for her
daughter and for her daughter to not lower herself for the vague chance of
Rhaegar doing the right thing. “What guarantee do we have?”
 
Tywin paused. "It cannot be revealed straight away. Let Myrcella warm his bed
for a few weeks, a single night of indiscretion could be disproven. He's known
to end his affairs quickly and discreetly, but an affair spanning weeks would
be much harder."
 
“And then?” Cersei asked.
 
“We’ll give them time, a few moons or even a year and then the King and his
youngest will tragically perish,” Tywin explained.
 
“How?” Cersei whispered.
 
“There are several options,” Tywin admitted. “Poison, falling from a horse, or
even a shipwreck. The King and Prince Daemon make it a point to visit
Dragonstone every year. A few trusted men could easily ensure the ship goes
down.”
 
Cersei grinned wickedly. “I’ll go speak with Myrcella then, by your leave
father.”
 
Tywin waved her off and leant back in his chair while rubbing his hands. The
Targaryens had insulted him one time too many, and soon enough they would know
just how sharp the Lion’s claws truly were...
 
                                    Cersei
My father's a controlling bastard, but he wants to give my daughter everything.
She deserves everything. But he's obsessed with the bloody dragons, and kept
her from the crown thereby. He has failed. So I will give her a crown. I am the
only one to see how.
 
Since Cersei had taken up residence at the Red Keep with her father, she was
glad. She got away from her fuckwit of a husband, the now acting lord of
Casterly Rock, and she could spend her nights with Jaime. The few instances she
went to the West had been enough to convince everyone that her children were
Daven's, and not Jaime's.
The dumb, pretty King's guard no doubt would disagree with her methods, so she
knew not to tell him. He could just guard the Princesses tonight. She also
wouldn't tell her father of her new plan, for she knew he would not see its
genius. He had tried to get Myrcella to marry Aegon or Viserys for years, all
while ignoring the very obvious option in front of him.
Cersei went to her daughter's room, and entered without a knock. She was
changing into a new dress, to ready for the night's feast.
"Mother!" Myrcella yelled, "Please knock."
"Calm down, child," Cersei said, "I'm your mother. You have no privacy around
me."
Myrcella pouted and continued changing. Cersei noticed how her daughter had
become a young woman, her chest filled out finally and body more suited for a
partner's touch. She was ready. Then Cersei noticed her daughter's little pouty
lips and innocent face, along with her soft blonde ringlets. Any man would kill
to fuck her, and Cersei knew a prince was hardly above any man. This would be
easy, especially with what she taught Myrcella.
"Myrcella," Cersei said, sitting on her daughter's bed, "It is time you
married."
Myrcella immediately turned around, excited, but noticeably afraid. 
"Has grandfather decided?" Myrcella said excitedly, "Will I marry Aegon?
Viserys? Ser Garlan?"
Cersei had trained her daughter in many things. Like all noble girls, she was
raised to love the idea of marriage, especially to a prince. She also learned
the ways to gain and maintain a marriage, though Cersei avoided the maintaining
herself. 
"Neither," Cersei explained, "You will marry Prince Daemon Targaryen."
"Daemon?" Myrcella asked, "The northern-blooded."
Her father had filled Myrcella's mind with so much disregard for all the Lyanna
did to her, that he forgot that the younger prince was an option. 
"Yes," Cersei explained, "He's an honorable man, a fine swordsman, and he will
be kind to you."
"I would not be a queen," Myrcella said confusedly.
"You'll be a princess," Cersei said. It was better not to tell her about how
Aegon and Rhaegar would later be killed.
"I-I um," Myrcella said, "I've seen him. He seems kind." Then her face became
determined. She no doubt weighed her options, and saw the benefits in it.
"He'll be a fine match; an honorable northman; he may even be Hand one day."
"Good, my dear," Cersei said.
"When shall we wed?" Myrcella asked.
"We cannot say; you are not bethrothed," Cersei said.
"I am not?" Myrcella asked again.
"No," Cersei explained, "You must seduce him."
Myrcella looked down at her mother. She was beautiful. Cersei remembered trying
to seduce Rhaegar at Harrenhal; she was a young girl, and he a grown man. He
almost relented and took her, but the bitch Lyanna took him first. This time,
though, there would be no other girl; Cersei would ensure it. Myrcella, like
herself, would be ready to tempt a prince. Years of suggestion and training
would at last be useful.
"I know you must have preferred not to," Cersei said, "But you can nonetheless.
At the dinner tonight. Speak to him, charm him, dance with him, and take him to
bed tonight."
"Tonight?" Myrcella asked.
"A challenge, I'm sure," Cersei said, "But you're a lioness. You shall always
succeed."
 
                                   Myrcella 
Myrcella changed into another dress since her mother left. She had a new
mission. No longer would she try to enrapture Aegon with her pretty bats of her
eyelashes. Her goal was now Daemon Targaryen.
Her grandfather rarely spoke of the northern prince, other than calling him
"the youngest" or the "northern-blood." It was likely because he resented Queen
Lyanna, whom he called the King's "other plaything." Whether Tywin knew that
his once four year old granddaughter actually understood him, she never knew.
But the black-haired prince had ever been an important part of the court; he
was quiet mostly, often deferring to his brother, but he always seemed kind. He
was larger than Aegon, who reminded her of Daeron the Good. Thinking about
Daemon now, made her think of the Dragonknight, or Maekar. 
In all of her fantasies, in which she touched herself at night, she rarely
thought of Aegon. It was usually Loras Tyrell. But thinking about Daemon, his
built chest, Myrcella wondered if her soon-to-be bethrothed could excite her
so.
Myrcella dressed in her favorite dress, a long white silk that hugged her body,
and accentuated her new breasts. Her mother constantly contemplated ways of
seducing prince Aegon, and at last those methods would be used, but on the
other brother. But Myrcella was a dutiful daughter, and she knew a lesser
prince would be good as well. She'd do her duty, and catch a prince.
Myrcella looked at herself in the mirror, moved her hair a bit, and put on
light eye make up. She would appear older, and more beautiful. She applied some
perfume, and spun around. 
Seduce. I need to seduce him.
Then Myrcella got an idea, and she smiled. Then she reached under her dress.
 
"Would you care to dance, my Prince?" Myrcella asked Daemon.
He was sitting, and looked confused. Women rarely asked for such things, but
her mother taught her that men appreciated girls who were different.
"Aye," Daemon said, and he took Myrcella's hand.
Myrcella took him to the dance hall, in which many lords and ladies danced.
Myrcella looked up at her prince. He was a head and a half taller than her, and
looked confused. She smiled, and put his hand on her hip.
"Let's dance," she said.
They started swaying, and Daemon soon started leading.
"I must admit, Lady Myrcella," Daemon said, "I didn't expect this. We hardly
know each other."
"But we know of each other," Myrcella replied, "I know you're the prince, a
great warrior, but always avoids dancing."
"Quite a summary of my life," Daemon smirked. "Well I know of you as well."
"What do you know of me?" Myrcella asked.
"I know you're a Lannister, the Hand's granddaughter," Daemon said, "I thought
you'd be Aegon's bride one day, if I'm to be honest."
"I am more interested in other princes," Myrcella replied.
Daemon smiled, obviously surprised at her boldness. "Is that so?" Daemon asked.
"You must know I've had thousands of women, ladies and low-born alike, try to
get in my bed."
 
                                    Daemon
Holding the young girl in his arms was heavenly. She was certainly interested
in being his wife, as all the others were. But he would entertain her. It could
be fun.
"I'm not trying to get into your bed," Myrcella said, swaying closer to him, "I
only wished to speak to my Prince."
Daemon looked down at her; she was the maiden come alive. He knew of Myrcella;
he had seen her and her mother for so long. They say Myrcella looked like
Cersei at her age. Cersei, then, must have caused many a man to lose their
hands to win her favor. Daemon thought to himself. I can take her to my bed,
just once.
"Well-" he started, eagerly going to pull her closer.
"Never mind," Myrcella replied, carelessly walking away, "I don't want my
prince to doubt my intentions."
Daemon saw her little arse sway as she walked away, and felt his cock stiffen.
"Wait!" Daemon called out, "Lady Myrcella,  I did not mean to suggest."
Myrcella looked back at him and stopped and looked back, then walked up to
him. 
"Come," she said, "Let's talk at the tables."
Daemon immediately followed and they found themselves at the tables. They
talked and talked, about their lives, and their goals. She was clever,
humorous, and even better, she pretended to laugh at his jokes.
"And what did Ser Loras do?" Myrcella asked.
"He fell from his bloody horse; he had the thing in heat and the horses mated
in front of everyone," Daemon explained.
Myrcella giggled cutely and Daemon laughed.
"The things men will do to win a tourney," Myrcella said.
"Aye, it's a thing of honour," Daemon said.
"Is it honorable to have a lady on your lap, when she's not your wife?"
Myrcella said.
Daemon was confused until he looked down. She had crawled onto him throughout
the conversation, and he didn't notice.
"Forgive me, my lady," he said, moving her off.
"It's perfectly alright," Myrcella said, "And call me Myrcella."
"Myrcella," Daemon repeated. "Tell me this about yourself? Why aren't you
married, or bethrothed? Many women are by your age."
"Ooh my prince," she said, "You speak of scandal. I believe they are afraid
I'll eat them."
Daemon laughed. "Eat them? Cannibal, are you?" 
"No," she laughed, "They just fear lions. Powerful creatures, they are."
"And dragons, Myrcella?" Daemon said, "Could you eat them?"
"Well, I don't have a gag reflex," Myrcella whispered.
The breeze stopped and Daemon looked at Myrcella. She looked and acted half
like a girl and half like the dirtiest whore. He didn't believe that she didn't
have thousands of betrothals. The dinner party had left, and only he and
Myrcella remained in the room. Daemon smiled.
"Allow me to play you a piece," Daemon said, pulling out his flute. His father
had taught him many things, from the sword to delegating, but skills in music
were the most useful around women.
Daemon played his tune, a rendition of the Dornishmen's Wife, and Myrcella
clapped.
"I loved it," she said with a smile.
"Here, allow me to play Jenny's Song," Daemon said.
"It's fine. I don't want your mouth to dry, my prince," Myrcella said.
"Worry not," Daemon said with a smirk, "My tongue can go for hours."
Myrcella's face reddened and Daemon played his songs. At last he realized it
was late in the night. He kept looking at Myrcella, how her golden hair shined
in the moonlight. He wasn't sure who started moving in first, but nevertheless
they found themselves kissing. Her lips tasted like wine from the gods. When he
pulled away, she looked so cute and embarrassed. He was rock hard.
Daemon huffed and knew he had to end it. He stood up quickly. "I'm afraid we'll
have to end this, my La-" he started when he heard a rip.
Daemon looked down and saw Myrcella had a rip in her dress. Somehow the bottom
of her dress had itself attached to his breeches and ripped it. Myrcella
squealed and stood up. She turned around and pulled off the rip, and her long
dress was made a short one, and he could see her thighs.
"I-I didn't mean," he said.
"It's fine," Myrcella said, "You can go, my lord." She looked upset.
Daemon was sad to leave but walked away, embarrassed and hard. Then she spoke
again.
"My prince," Myrcella said sultrily, "Don't you want to make it up to me?"
He turned and saw Myrcella with her hands against a pillar, sticking her dress
riding up, and he could see her womanhood glistening oh so sweetly. She wasn't
wearing any smallclothes. He paused, and Myrcella swayed her body, and he was
drawn to her. Daemon held her against the pillar and looked around. No one
could see them.
Without a second thought he felt down her petite body, and she moaned all the
while. Daemon reached down and stroked her womanhood. She was soaking wet.
"Ugh," she moaned, "Right there."
Daemon played with her cunt, and started fingering her, obsessed with the
noises she made.
Out of nowhere, she turned around. She looked scared and desperate. "My bed or
yours?" she asked.
"I-yours; they'll be less guards," Daemon said.
Myrcella took his hand and ran them quiet to her room. She pushed him on the
bed and undressed in front of him. He looked up at her and admired her body,
her small tits and at last her perfect little arse. His cock was straining. So
he damn near ripped off his clothes.
"We must make this fast," Myrcella said, as Daemon held her naked body and her
arse.
He agreed and she jumped on top of him. She humped him continuously until he
was had as steel, then she held his cock with her petite hand, looking up in
his eyes with an innocent look. She kissed the head and his cock twitched. The
she got up and put it inside her.
Myrcella moaned and groaned, and Jon held her fiercely. She was in pain and
pleasure, and so, so wet. After seconds she began riding him slowly. Jon
grabbed her arse and helped her, and soon she was fully riding him. It was
better than any other time he could imagine.
 
                                    Tywin 
The Hand of the King, or soon-to-be-resigned Hand, walked to his quarters. The
king would relieve him in the morrow for his endless denials. If Myrcella
managed to rope the crown prince in after months, he might come back. But until
then-
"Fuck," he heard a grunt. It was a man's, in the Lannister's quarters.
Tywin continued walking to the origin of the moaning in hopes of punishing
someone. There he saw that the door to his grand daughter's bedchamber was
half-open. Inside was Myrcella, her breasts held by a man with dark hair, as
she bounced up and down on an erect manhood, her eyes closed and whimpering
"Fuck me, fuck me". The man was Daemon Targaryen.
Tywin was haunted by the image and walked away. This wasn't what he intended,
but his mind moved too quickly. He already knew why Cersei had put her up to
this.
This can work.
 
 
"Ahhh!" was what a maid screamed the next morning. Tywin planned for it.
Myrcella and Daemon would be caught by all, and he knew what to do next.
Afterwards, in the morning, the rumor had spread throughout King's Landing.
Tywin burned his resignation letter, and walked straight to the thone room.
"This is unacceptable!" He affirmed before King Rhaegar. "My granddaughter,
sullied by a prince, her maidenhead taken, humiliated."
"Lord Tywin," Rhaegar said, "I mean to correct for this so that she be
honored."
"Then honor her!" Tywin demanded. It was inappropriate to raise his voice to
the king, but Rhaegar would be called another Aerys if he punished a caring
guardian for acting so. "I demand that Prince Daemon marry her."
Rhaegar paused and thought. " Queen Lyanna will no doubt desire to speak on
this subject, but she has gone for a fortnight. So it will be done," he said,
"They shall marry. "
 
                                    Daemon 
Staying the night was not the plan. Being caught was not the plan. Being
betrothed was certainly not the plan. Daemon was in his room, trying to think
of what to do. Then  Myrcella entered without a knock.
She was just as beautiful, and she smiled nervously. "So we marry," she said.
"You tricked me," Daemon said.
"I did not," she said, "Unless you were not the one who agreed to go again for
third time." Then she leaned against his door. "But this will be good, my
prince. I do like you. And I can be a good wife. I know my role is to be
obedient, and serve you in every way I can." Then she smiled. "You would like
that, wouldn't you?"
He knew he was originally to be married soon, after his mother arrived. And he
had been nervous about it, as he did not know who the girl could be. Would it
be a septa-like woman, a cruel bitch, or someone sweet? Aegon had certainly
warned him about the type of women highborn ladies could be. Daemon looked up
and down his new wife. She was gorgeous, reckless, and she smiled so cheekily.
She had long blonde hair in the softest ringlets and her cheeks demanded to be
cupped in his hands. 
This could work. 
***** The other woman. *****
Chapter Summary
     Not everyone is pleased at Daemon's betrothal.
Rhaenys:

Rhaenys was pacing in her rooms. She was angry, no scratch that, she was
furious. She had arrived back from Dorne the night before, eager to tell her
brother Daemon just why she had cut her visit short by three moons. Her mother
had been overjoyed to find her returned to the Red Keep, as had her father for
that matter, though she couldn’t care less about him, not since he had tried to
wed her off to Willas Tyrell.

Her anger abated slightly as a smirk crossed her face when she thought about
that incident. Father had informed her on her six and tenth nameday that she
would wed Willas two years later upon her eight and tenth nameday. For two
whole damn years she had pleaded, protested, cajoled and threatened but to no
avail. Her father, living in his own world of dreams must have thought her a
mummer for all he listened to her threats, it wasn’t until she stood opposite
Willas in the Sept of Baelor and loudly answered ‘NO’ when asked if she would
take him as her husband that father must have realized just how serious Rhaenys
was.

The ensuing scandal had been awful for her father that was. Rhaenys hadn’t
given a fuck, and had gladly laughed along with Daemon as they watched father
try to salvage the situation with the offended Reach Lords. Three more times he
had attempted to wed her away only to be met with the same refusal, so in the
end he had given up and left her to her own devices. She was officially ‘cut
off’ as the saying went, but as long as she had Daemon in the palm of her hand
there was no worry.

She and Daemon had first fucked when he was four and ten, and they’d kept their
affair hidden ever since. They had both fantasized about following in the
footsteps of their ancestors and marry one day as proper brothers and sisters
of valyrian blood should, but father had quashed that dream in its infancy. ‘I
seek an end to brother fornicating with sister’ he had said. ‘A vile and
disgusting practice, I’ll hear no more of it’ Rhaenys giggled,‘if you only knew
father dear,’she thought, before frowning.

She didn’t blame her brother, not exactly at any rate. She knew he had taken
other women to his bed before, just as she herself had taken the odd lover now
and then, and if Rhaenys could’ve taken Myrcella Lannister to bed she’d done it
in a heartbeat. It mattered little, but now he’d been foolish enough to get
caught, and with a noblewoman of all things, and as such was now to wed the
delicate lion bitch.‘You’re mine brother,’she thought angrily. Rhaenys had been
Daemon’s first, his first everything actually, and the thought of the Lannister
cunt forever holding a claim on what rightfully belonged to Rhaenys was
agonizing.

Rhaenys let her hand caress her belly, smiling at the small bulge underneath
her hands. None knew as of yet, other than Arianne that is. It was Ari who’d
first noticed when she was visiting in Dorne. It would’ve been hard not to
notice considering Ari’s face was between her legs at the time, and a quick
trip to a woman knowledgeable in such matters confirmed that Rhaenys was with
child, at least the woman was discrete, having dealt with Arianne twice in
similar situations, though Ari had chosen moontea rather than birth a bastard.

Not Rhaenys though. She had always been been a girl who did as she wished,
making her father despair as she rode around on horseback or practicing archery
or a spear. It did not help that mother, both her mothers encouraged her
pursuits, though Lyanna was somewhat hesitant at the dresses Rhaenys chose to
wear.

For all that Rhaenys enjoyed archery, or fighting with a spear she enjoyed
making people blush even more. Which was why she wore dornish dresses as often
as possible. Nothing pleased her more than to show off her body, all smooth and
lightly muscled from her long hours in the training yard, at times her dresses
were of silk so sheer that any man or woman could see whether she was shaved or
not between her legs. Not so now though. She didn’t truly care if anyone knew
of she was with child or not, none would ever know who the father was anyway,
but she wanted Daemon to be the first to know, which was why she was actually
covered up in more clothes than she had worn for years.

“Princess”, Ser Arthur’s voice called her through the door. “Prince Daemon said
he can see you now.”

‘Finally,’ she thought as she walked quickly towards Daemon’s rooms. As had
been Daemon’s fashion for near four years now, his doors were guarded, not by a
Kingsguard or household guard, but rather a giant white direwolf, near the size
of a horse these days. “Hi Ghost,” Rhaenys cooed as she rubbed his big head,
the giant wolf panting happily at her experienced hands before lowering his
head to sniff at and lick her belly. “That’s right” she whispered, “I’ll have a
little dragonpup for myself soon.”

Ghost closed his eyes in pleasure as Rhaenys found just the right spot behind
his ears and swiftly sank into a large helpless ball of white fur. “Make sure
no one disturbs us,” Rhaenys muttered to the wolf before opening the door. She
swiftly locked and barred the door behind her before marching into Daemon’s
bedchambers where she found him seated in a chair by his table, clad only in a
pair of loose trousers.

Rhaenys unconsciously licked her lips as she let her eyes rove across his half
nude form. His thick arms and barreled chest never ceased to make her cunt wet
in anticipation. His long dark curls that she just loved to rake her hands
through, and then, there was that fucking smirk on his face that never failed
to make her act as his wanton whore. “Sister,” he grinned, taking a slow sip
from his goblet as if nothing was wrong in the world. “How delightful it is to
see you again.”

Daemon:

Daemon sighed with content as he leaned back in his favourite chair with a
glass of wine near his hand on the table. ‘amazing how much simpler the world
seems after a good tumble,’he thought happily. His future wife had just left
his chambers to return to her own rooms in the Tower of the Hand, but not
before getting on her knees to suck his cock, and what a job she had done.

While the hot little mouth of his oldest sister Rhaenys was by far the best
mouth ever to have graced his cock, Cella’s wasn’t far behind, which was saying
something considering how Cella was but four and ten while Rhaenys was one and
twenty, which boded well for his and Cella’s future life in the marriage bed,
and if he ever found out who had taught Cella to suck cock he’d reward the
woman, or man with their weight in gold.

And now he was waiting for Rhaenys. To speak the truth he was surprised she
hadn’t pounded down his door already. Rhaenys had never been good at sharing
her favourite things, and though she knew or suspected that he had brought
other women to his bed he never let her know who, the one time she did find out
she had the poor woman arrested on fraudulent charges and sent to work off her
debts to a brothel owned by their uncle Viserys.

No, Rhaenys would not be pleased, Daemon knew this, he wasn’t entirely pleased
either. He knew that Cella had intentionally trapped him in this situation, but
then again, she was bringing the support of the Westerlands with her, and
regardless of how much Daemon loved Rhaenys, he knew that they could never wed.
Father would not let them due to his own views on Targaryen traditions of
brother and sister fornicating, and Aegon would not allow it either when he
became King, though that was more due to the fact that he wanted Rhaenys for
himself, or had wanted her at one point at least, but she’d spurned his
advances, and ever since the two of them had only given each other cold
acknowledgments whenever they had to spend time in the same room, speaking
neither good or ill to each other, and usually sharing only a 'good day’ or
‘farewell’ to each other, the less words the better.

No, Daemon realized that this was the best. Rhaenys would never wed, the
scandal with Willas Tyrell had made that obvious, but she could still stay with
Daemon. Father had spoken of offering him Duskendale and the Dun Fort as his
seat ever since the spring sickness three years past took all the Rykkers, and
if Daemon offered to let Rhaenys stay with him for long periods of time, father
would not refuse. He’d probably be pleased to have her away from court
actually, less gossip that way.

Still, he knew that Rhaenys would probably come knocking on his door soon, and
he’d better have a good explanation to placate her. The best thing he could
come up with was that the two of them could work together to let Cella know
what a 'bad girl' she'd been to intentionally trap him in marriage. Daemon
could feel his cock hardening at the mere thought of it, and Rhaenys would
probably enjoy a nice young and blonde plaything to break in, the fact that she
despised Cersei and now had a chance to make a ‘whore’ of her daughter would
probably make his sweet sister wet as a bitch in heat.

It was at that point that Rhaenys entered. “Sister,” he said as he picked up
his goblet and took a long sip of dornish red, something he always enjoyed when
Rhaenys was away. “How delightful it is to see you again.”

"How did you caught in this?!" she yelled, "The Lannister bitch in your bed,
and now you're betrothed to her?!"

"It was not my intention to find a betrothal but nevertheless it happened,"
Daemon said, to which Rhaenys looked like she was about to yell. "You know I've
had wenches in my bed before, just as I know you have. Besides, I was going to
be married anyway once my mother arrived."

"Lyanna won't want you to marry the lion bitch," Rhaenys said. She was always
quick to jealousy. His mother likely couldn't stop him from marrying, and if
anything would
be reluctant to have him marry at all.

"Rhae," Daemon said, "Myrcella is actually very sweet."

"You liked her little cunt, that's all," Rhaenys proclaimed, "Just see. I'll
have her sent to a Lysene pleasure house."

Daemon lost his smile. "Rhae, sit on my lap," he ordered her.

"No!" Rhaenys said, "My little brother is bethrothed to a little bitch and I
won't allow it."

"Rhaenys!" Daemon yelled, "Sit." He pointed to his lap. Slowly, Rhaenys pouted
and walked to his lap and sat down on his lap. Daemon wrapped his arms around
her as she moaned unhappily and turned her head. He touched her cheek and
kissed her lips. Then he felt her bare waist and let her relax. "I still love
you. But you know I was going to be married. If father finds another child
denying a bethrothal he'll lose his mind."

"Daemon, I'm with child," she said, and Daemon was still. "It's yours."

Daemon looked at her and couldn't help but kiss her deeply. He felt her stomach
and admired her. She was beautiful. He was about to speak, but she felt up his
body and kissed him harder. She rubbed her ass against his crotch and turned
around, wrapping her legs around his torso. Daemon picked her up and they fell
against his bed. He was getting her dress off when she reached down his
smallclothes and felt his cock. She stopped.

"She sucked your cock right now, didn't she?" Rhaenys asked.

"Rhae," Daemon started.

"I wager I'm better than her," Rhaenys stated and she turned him and descended
down his body. Daemon looked down at her, as Rhaenys pulled off her loose
straps and her massive breasts fell out. "Lay back, little brother, let big sis
take care of you."

Daemon laid his head back and smiled. She was jealous, yes, but even more
confident in her "abilities."

Rhaenys licked his cock and it stiffened in her hands. She moaned as Daemon put
his hands behind his head. Then she suddenly stopped and Daemon looked up at
her confident smile.

"Aye, I reckon I'm better," she smirked.

She then laid by his side. They stayed there, half dressed and hugging.

"Father will give me Duskendale," Daemon said, "Come with us. You can have our
child near each other. Besides, Myrcella needs someone to punish her, for
seducing me."

Rhaenys smiled evilly, and cuddled into him. "And we can fuck as much as we
want, with no one to stop us," Rhaenys said. She kissed him and grabbed his
hands, and put them on her ass. "Worry not, I'll punish your little wife. But
you have to help too. I imagine you haven't destroyed her little ass yet."
Daemon groaned, the mere thought of watching Cella’s no doubt tight and
innocent arse stretching around his cock was maddening. “I’ll have her arse
soon enough sister dear,” he purred in her ear, holding back a grin as she
shivered. “Perhaps I’ll make use of your tongue first hmm? Make her good and
ready for me.”
Rhaenys snorted, “If you think I’ll have my tongue anywhere near that little
bitch’s arse think again brother.”
Now it was Daemon’s turn to snort, and then he sat up and lifted a protesting
Rhaenys out of the bed and waggled his eyebrows as he pushed her shoulders
lightly. Rhaenys rolled her eyes playfully, knowing full well what he wanted,
but since it was what she wanted as well she teasingly fell to her knees and
grabbed hold of his cock and held it teasingly against her lips for a moment
before putting the head inside her warm, wet mouth.
“Fuck,” Daemon moaned as he fisted his hands in Rhaenys’ long black tresses.
“You really are the best at this sister.”
Rhaenys looked ridiculous as she tried to grin while having her lips around his
cock, not that Daemon could say anything as she took a deep breath and
swallowed him to the root. “Seven hells,” he breathed as he gripped her hair
tighter and started to move her head up and down on his cock, marveling at the
way her throat massaged and constricted along his length, and how her tongue
stroked him back and forth as she gagged and slurped on his cock. A victorious
glint appeared in her eyes as she felt him come closer to the edge, she’d
certainly swallowed his cock enough times to recognize the signs, such as how
his legs seized up or how his eyes closed while his mouth was slightly open.
Eagerly she sucked harder but Daemon wasn’t about to let her have her prize
this time.
Moments before he lost all control he roughly pulled her head back with his
left hand, yanking back on her hair to the point that she let out small
innocent whimpers of pain while his right hand took up his cock and started to
jerk it quickly. “FUCK,” he yelled as the first strings of white pearly seed
erupted over her face, five more jets followed, each dollop landing on her
face, hair or chest.
“Daemon,” Rhaenys whined, cheated out of her prize.
“Aww, did my sweet sister not get what she wanted?” he asked, grinning as
Rhaenys nodded eagerly with a wounded look upon her cum stained face, almost
like a young child who had been denied a third helping of cake.
“Come here,” he cooed comfortingly as he patted the bed, watching with hungry
eyes as his lovely sister crept sinfully onto the bed and laid down with spread
legs. Daemon sucked in a deep breath as he watched the lips of her womanhood.
Pink and glistening with arousal. Despite wanting nothing more than to dive in
and drink deep of her nectar he had to make a point this time. Rhaenys was his,
and she was not the one who decided what Daemon would or would not do with his
wife, or what her role would be in their bed for that matter.”
“Turn around sister dear,” Daemon sang to her, enjoying how her eyes widened
momentarily as she realized what he wanted.
“Daemon,” she whimpered, “Please brother, not… not there,”
‘Ahh, the innocent maid,’ Daemon thought. It had been far too long since they’d
played that little game, Rhaenys much preferring the servant wench who’d been
caught stealing, or the warrior princess enjoying the fruits of victory.
“You’ll shut up and take it you little bitch,” he growled as he re positioned
her onto her hands and knees, “And you’ll damn well like it too,” he spread her
knees so that she was just the right height.
His cock almost jumped once he spread her cheeks and watched the pink little
rosebud of her arse, already wet from the juices that had trickled down from
her cunt and trembling in anticipation. “Please m’lord,” she mumbled, “I’ll do
anyfing, I swears, just don’t put it there.”
Daemon grinned, he always enjoyed their little games. “Anything ?” he whispered
in her ears. She nodded eagerly and Daemon positioned the crown of his cock at
her entrance. “Then bite the pillow, girl,” and then he pushed in hard.
Both of them moaned loudly as the feeling of his cock pushing through Rhaenys’
arse. It was so incredibly tight and warm.
"P-please m'lord, iz too big, I can't take it" Rhaenys moaned, "Put it
somewhere else."
"Ha, little rebellious girl turns into a slut when she's bent over and naked.
Not talking about being strong as any man now, are you? Well, I'm a high lord,
I get to fuck lowborn wenches like you however and whenever I want," Daemon
groaned.
Once he had impaled her to the root he held his still, just staying inside her
as her inner muscles constricted around him. “Fuck… me… brother,” she bit out,
her breathing deep and heavy. "Deeper."
Daemon grit his teeth as he slowly withdrew his cock until only the head was
left inside her tight arse before thrusting back in again, feeling his cock
harden even further at the sultry moan Rhaenys released at having her arse
filled up again.
Slowly at first, and then faster and faster his cock drove into her. “What a
little whore you are” he groaned as he put a hand on her back and pushed her
face into the pillows. “Moaning like a two copper whore while your own little
brother fills your arse with his cock.”
“Only your whore,” she cried, “only your cock has felt my arse.”
“As it should be sister,” he said as his left hand suddenly delivered a hard
slap on her arse cheek, causing her arse to contract even harder around his
cock. It proved to be his undoing as his balls suddenly contracted, sending
several spurts of warm cum into his beloved sister’s behind. Only instinct
stopped him from collapsing on top of his sister, which he was quite glad for,
he had no desire to harm their unborn babe.
Sprawled out on his back he could only watch with awe and desire as his sister
leaned over and started to place soft, loving kisses on his cock, not at all
caring that it had been in her arse mere moments earlier. The sight of her cum
stained face as well as the teasing kisses she placed on his cock soon had it
start to rise slowly, too slowly for his sister it seemed as she swiftly
enclosed it in her mouth once more.
He winced slightly, sensitive as he was, the feel of her tongue eagerly lapping
up the remnants of his seed was almost torture, but oh how sweet the torture
was. Once he had returned to full hardness, Rhaenys made a show of slowly
wiping the cum off her face with a slender finger, eagerly swallowing it until
her face was clean. She took a brief moment to drink a cup of water to clean
out her mouth before mounting him. With a leg on either side of his waist she
placed his cock at her entrance and slowly sank down.
He watched with smoldering eyes as she bit her lip and closed her eyes in
rapture as his cock slowly spread her walls. Whereas before it had been raw
fucking, like the dragons they claimed to be, this was slow, passionate, an
expression of the love they held for eachother, and though they both loved
rough hard fucking there was something truly special when they took their time
and just enjoyed the moment.
Rhaenys bent over to kiss him, her tongue asking entrance into his mouth,
entrance he was more than happy to give. Embracing her in his arms he turned
them over so that she lay beneath him and he picked up a comfortable pace, his
cock sliding in and out of her flower. He lost count of time as he fucked her
slowly, his dark eyes boring into her own. “I love you sweet sister,” he
murmured as he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
Rhaenys’ eyes glistened in the damp light of his room, the passion from before
replaced with a love that was only theirs, a love that, no matter how wrong to
everyone else was just right for them. “You’re such a lecher little brother,”
Rhaenys said with a sudden giggle, laughter dancing in her shining brown eyes.
“You’ve a pretty little wife all lined up to be wed, and yet here you are,
fucking your own sister in whose belly you’ve already put a bastard in.”
“Aye, and I’ll get another one on you soon enough after this one is born,” he
said with a laugh while softly caressing the small bump on her belly. “It
doesn’t change the facts though, I love you, always have and always will.”
“I know brother,” Rhaenys said with a trembling voice, her eyes glistening with
unshed tears.
“I’ll wed Cella you know,” he said. “I’ll have children with her, mayhap even
grow to love her, but do not think for a moment that I will love you any less,
or let you go to another man, you’re mine sweet sister, you’ll always be mine.”
Rhaenys’ legs clamped around the small of his back a her cunt grabbed him like
a vice as she threw her head back and screamed, finally becoming unleashed as
his cock sent her wailing over her peak, and with one last thrust he moaned as
he painted her womb white.
 Tired he laid down beside her and draped her shivering form over him before
drawing the covers over them. “I love you brother,” Rhaenys said tiredly as she
laid another kiss on him.
“Stay here tonight,” Daemon mumbled, his arms drawing her in closer. “Ghost
will make sure that we are not interrupted,” but Rhaenys was already asleep,
and with one last kiss on her pretty lips he too fell into a deep and fitful
sleep.
***** Mothers *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Cersei
To say that Cersei was satisfied would be an understatement. This was her best
scheme yet. She was drinking the finest wine straight from the Arbor; she wore
her best golden dress, and sat in front of her father. They were in the Tower
of the Hand, and she couldn't stop giggling.
"You did this," Tywin said, looking dead at her. It was neither a condemnation
nor a question. Cersei assumed it was the best compliment he could muster.
"Ha,"Cersei exclaimed, taking another swig of wine, "Rhaegar, the damn fool was
protecting his first son. Probably had him prepared for our advances.
However, have forgot about the northern-blooded one." Cersei chuckled and felt
full of herself.
Tywin didn't mention having caught his granddaughter in bed with an older boy,
or the fact that she planned it. The old man probably didn't even care if it
embarrassed him. It didn't matter if House Lannister got itself a crown.
"Well you've denied my orders," Tywin said, "Now we must change our plans. Not
every House will follow a non-Valyrian Prince. That means we must kill Viserys
as well as the King and his heir. I've convinced the King to prolong the wait
until Aegon marries Margaery Tyrell. That gives us time to ensure they don't
have a child."
"Margaery," Cersei scoffed, "a doe-eyed slut. She had no right to take
Myrcella's place as the future Queen."
Tywin didn't respond to the insult. "That leaves Daemon and Myrcella. I've
motioned to marry them before the next moon. He dishonoured her. It would be
sensible for a speedy marriage."
"A fortnight for a bethrothal?" Cersei asked. "Fine. It will be done. And what
after?"
"The King will give them Duskendale," Tywin said. "A fine seat for them, until
Myrcella takes her crown. And it shall give her time to have children."
"Children?" Cersei asked. She new children were necessary but should it be so
soon?
"Of be course," Tywin said, "We're in a tenuous position. Viserys already has a
wife and Aegon will marry the Tyrell girl soon enough. We need to secure our
House."
Cersei remembered how cruel and calculated her father was about a woman's role.
She remembered how he stressed her need to be a broodmare. Nevertheless, she
was silent about that.
"She'll have blonde-haired princes," Cersei responded, "Soon enough."
"You sound sure of it," Tywin said "But we can't take chances. I want you to go
to Duskendale with them. Ensure that she becomes pregnant."
"Father," Cersei replied, "you're a tactician, but I don't think you're aware
that children aren't more keen to bed each other when their mothers are
around."
Tywin stayed silent. "Fine," he finally said, "but if she's not pregnant within
three moons you will go to Duskendale."
*Oh, Father, you needn't worry about that.*
Cersei remembered the conversation she had with her daughter not three hours
past. She was drinking her her child just as she is now.

"And he couldn't stop himself!" Myrcella laughed as she sipped her wine.
She and Cersei were in her room, sitting on her bed and gossiping. Apparently,
the crown's second son was far quicker to accept Myrcella's advances than
Aegon.
"And what did you do next?" Cersei asked as she stared lovingly at her
beautiful daughter. She was such a doll, her soft blonde hair and cute face
giving her such an innocent look. It was no wonder why Daemon couldn't take his
hands off her when he realized she was hardly innocent.
"I bent over and put my hands against the column," Myrcella answered.
"With your tightest dress half-ripped?" Cersei asked.
"With it riding up my thighs," Myrcella continued, " without smallclothes."
"Oh my daughter is such a temptress!" Cersei laughed.
All of her instructions of how to lure a husband finally paid off. Years of
instructions, all to get a prince, had worked.
"And now he can't keep his hands off me," Myrcella explained. She took a sip of
her wine. A boy in his prime couldn't take his hands off a young, beautiful
girl? Of course he couldn't.
"Never deny, him, my sweet," Cersei said. "Soon he'll gift you with a child,
and then a crown."
Myrcella didn't question how was going to become queen. She knew better than to
ask.
Myrcella
"Fuck! Fuck!" Myrcella screamed. Her body bounced up and down quickly, and she
closed her eyes tightly. They were in his room, enjoying their bethrothal.
She was riding Daemon, and the sounds of his pelvis slapping her arse only grew
louder. Originally they said it was going to be her chance to take control
during sex, but even under her, Daemon was in control, fucking her fast and
hard. His right hand squeezed her arse while the other groped her small breast.
She tried to control her voice but she couldn't. She was moaning and trying to
balance herself, but she was relying on his grip. The pride of Casterly Rock
was was touching Daemon's chest, and her beautiful blonde hair was a mess. She
was so close.
Suddenly Daemon grabbed her cheeks and made her look him in his mysterious grey
eyes. She was breathless and her mouth gaped in awe and pleasure. "Such a
pretty little girl," he groaned, before he finally exploded inside of her.
Myrcella followed and felt her whole body shake. She screamed. Daemon continued
fucking her as she made the most embarrassing noises and tried not to alert
half of King's Landing to their fucking.
By the end of it, she collapsed on top of him and felt his seed deep inside of
her. Myrcella imagined fucking for years, but it was so much more intense than
she ever thought.
As they recovered, Daemon put his arm around her and they enjoyed the
afterglow.
"And this what you'll have to deal with every day," Daemon said, "Now that you
tricked me into marriage."
Myrcella chuckled evilly and kissed his neck. He was too easy. In all her
training, Myrcella never saw the point in manipulating men beyond getting a
crown out of it. Now she understood why her mother preferred this to simple
dowries and flirting. It was so much fun. A few kisses on the neck and Daemon
would be ready to go again, and so Myrcella would get her own pet dragon.
Daemon, however, got up, put on trousers, and walked to get a jug of water.
Myrcella waited in bed and decided to surprise him. She got up and put on her
nightgown, one of dark red silk. She smirked and put it on. She fixed her hair,
letting it pool over her breasts and she adjusted the tie around the gown, so
one could almost see her womanhood.
Daemon came back with two glasses of water and stopped upon seeing her.
He smirked. "I like it," he said.
Myrcella gushed an overly girly squeal, and Daemon only smiled more. It was too
fun.
Then there was a knock on the door. Without answer, the door opened and in
walked Rhaenys Targaryen. She was a beautiful woman, and mayhaps a decent
person. But she was interrupting.
Rhaenys looked immediately at Myrcella and then Daemon, and before she could
speak, Myrcella did.
"We're busy, Your Grace," Myrcella said, from her corner of the room.
Rhaenys, strangely, smiled at Myrcella and looked her up and down, judging her.
"Aye," she said, "You are. Hmm, I can see it. You are a pretty one indeed."
Rhaenys walked to Daemon and kissed his lips. She wrapped her hands around him
and stuck her tongue in his mouth. Myrcella almost squeaked in surprise.
"I'll see you later," Rhaenys said, pulling away from the prince. Then she
walked out, closing the door behind her.
Myrcella immediately stared at Daemon and crossed her arms.
"So you are just like any other Targaryen," Cella stated angrily.
So he's fucking his big sister. No wonder she left Willas Tyrell at the altar.
I must tell mother.
"I know, I know," Daemon said, putting his hands up in defense,"but I never
said I was single when you tricked me into bed."
"Are you going to marry her instead?"so Myrcella asked impatiently.
Daemon looked uncomfortable and backed away."She and I can't marry,"he said,
"nor can I make her. She's a free spirit and do what she pleases."
The young blonde looked up and down here bethrothed. In truth she didn't have
many feelings for him yet, beyond a very lustful friendship, so she wasn't
jealous. Nevertheless, it wasn't a good thing for a husband to have other
women, though her mother said that men often do.
Myrcella walked over to the bed and sat down, and Daemon followed.
"Let us discuss how our marriage shall be," Myrcella said. Daemon only nodded.
"I know I must be a proper wife," she started,"I know my place. I will honor
you and defer to your judgement in all things. I will run your household and if
the gods are good I shall give you sons. You shall command me in all things,
once my father gives his command to you. The septa at Casterly Rock taught me
what makes a good wife. I can do needlework and under no circumstances will I
deny you my body when you desire it. I have been taught to be a proper wife and
I will do so. But I know many husbands enjoy their stations too much; they are
controlling and abusive, and have dozens of bastards. My Prince, can you
promise me not to be like that?"
Daemon looked at her sadly, and instead of speaking, he grabbed her face and
kissed her."I won't be cruel to you," he said, "I was already with my sister
when we were together, but I shall take no one to bed but you and Rhaenys."
"I am the other woman then.
Do you love her?"Myrcella asked, but she didn't know why.
"I always have. And she's pregnant"he said. That surprised Myrcella. "She
certainly is annoyed that I've found myself with a wife to be. But mayhaps you
can grow to like her."
"I'm not sure how to feel," Myrcella said,"we aren't lovers. I had no right to
respect you to be free and without lovers when I took you to bed. I shouldn't
have tricked you."
"Cella," Daemon said, "I'm very glad you did."
She smiled. "Call me Cella again," she said.
So his sister is pregnant. It wouldn't do to tell mother. Gods no what she'll
do. I'll deal with the bitch myself.
Lyanna
"You're giving my son to some Lannister whore!?" Queen Lyanna screamed at her
husband. They were in their Chambers, and King Rhaegar seemed ever less like
the strong king he was.
"Tywin tied my hands," Rhaegar said, as he undressed,"he spoke of Daemon
dishonoring his granddaughter, in front of the whole court. I couldn't rightly
stop him."
"I don't see the problem, Lya," Elia said, as she laid on the large bed,
entirely naked, "she'd be a fine wife, better than the Tyrell bitch that's
marrying mine."
Rhaegar approached her and smiled. He thought he could get away with deciding
their son's fate.
"My love," he said as he moved behind her, "he had to marry eventually."
Rhaegar began removing her dress.
"But the Lannister clan is full of cunts," Lyanna said. Rhaegar pulled her
dress off, leaving her naked.
"That's unfair," Rhaegar said. "Besides, she's just a young girl." He kissed
his beautiful northern Queen.
Suddenly Lyanna felt smaller hands on her breasts. She removed her lips from
Rhaegar's and Elia took them for herself. They all rolled onto bed.
They found their positions. Elia was at the end of the bed, her legs spread.
Lyanna bent over and had her face in Elia's womanhood, while Rhaegar took from
behind.
"I don't-ugh-want to lose my son," the northern Queen moaned.
"He'll be nearby-fuck," Rhaegar groaned "at Duskendale." He fucked get harder.
"There. Happy now?" Elia asked, her hands in Lyanna's hair.
"No," Lyanna pouted.
"You've only complained all day long," Elia said, looking her lover in the eye.
"Lord husband, fuck her in the arse. I'll shut this bitch up."
Lyanna's eyes opened wide but before she could speak her face was in Elia's
cunt and Rhaegar was fucking her arse vigorously.

Fine, I'll see the little slut who's stealing my son.
It was past midnight, and the queen walked through Maegor's holdfast. Upon
reaching Myrcella's door, she knocked and waited.
What she saw though, was not what she expected.
As the door opened, she saw a young beautiful blonde girl, mayhaps four feet
and ten. She had cute cheeks and a baby fat in her small figure. She looked so
innocent.
"Oh, your grace," Myrcella said, "I was not expecting you."Suddenly the young
girl bowed. "I thank you, for allowing me the honor to marry your son."
"I um-"the queen tried to say. This wasn't the Cersei clone she expected. "You
seem a sweet girl. We shall talk in the morning." And the queen left.
Gods, this is what not I expected, when I heard my son had been seduced.
Myrcella
"What is it?" Daemon asked as Myrcella closed the door. He was naked, and
awaited her to return and jump in his awaiting cock.
Myrcella only smirked. "Nothing, now let's continue."
It's too easy.
Chapter End Notes
     I accidentally posted this to the wrong story. Thanks Alex13 Also,
     next chapter is the wedding
      
     Also. I -Avery- have written another Jon/Myrcella fic. Check it out.
     It's called "Queen Myrcella."
     3/29/2018
     This went longer than I assumed. I have found this story tiring and
     too directionless. As of this moment, I am ending it and offering it
     up for adoption. Otherwise, I'll give it to Daemon until further
     notice.
     Much Love - Avery
     Parting is such sweet sorrows.
End Notes
     This is just the beginning.
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