Chapter Text
“Well, that went relatively well,” Aegon said as he relaxed in his chair.
“Keep in mind that it was just the first Small Council meeting, and we don’t have any active issues to deal with at the moment,” Daemon said from his own chair.
“The spirit of optimism you are,” Aegon muttered.
“It is the duty of the Hand of the King to keep his monarch informed of the state of things,” Daemon drawled, earning a snort. “Our main concern for the next little while will likely be seeing who we want to keep on here and who will join Lord Connington in being graciously thanked for their service.”
“Father’s council have proven themselves to be quite capable,” Aegon said. “Even Connington I had no real issues with. I just wanted you with me, especially given the sudden transition.”
“We all hoped that you wouldn’t be crowned for many years yet,” Daemon said sadly.
Aegon swallowed thickly and said, “Our focus must be on the realm, both for the sake of the people and, frankly, our own. The Seven Kingdoms have fared well since the Baratheon Uprising, and I don’t want that to change on my account.”
“Speaking of things that we all thought we’d get to put off a while longer, there is the matter of finding the kingdoms a queen,” Daemon said.
“Gods,” Aegon groaned.
“I took the liberty of drafting a list of potential candidates, and…” Daemon went to say.
“Can I just not have a wife?” Aegon asked.
“Aegon…” Daemon went to say.
“No, think about it,” Aegon said. “You and Rhaenys are bound to have children. The gods know you practice making them often enough, and your eldest son can be my heir. We both know that I wouldn’t...I’m not going to be a father, Daemon.”
“Egg, the queen is more than her womb,” Daemon said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She is a symbol and a vital part of the monarchy.”
“Meaning what?” Aegon asked.
“The crown has three components,” Daemon said: “the king, who wears the crown and so shoulders the responsibility of his role; the hand, who does most of the administrative work; and the queen, who provides the sweet and lovely face of the whole thing. As a young woman, a queen is a symbol of innocence and virtue. As she ages and has children, she becomes a symbol of motherhood and stability, and eventually she becomes a symbol of matronly warmth. A queen gets to enjoy the perks of being looked up to and loved by the people in good times without being blamed in bad times for things going poorly, as the king is. There is a reason why most queens throughout history have been more popular than their husbands, and it would be unwise to deprive yourself of what is usually the kinder, friendlier face of the crown.”
“So you’re saying that I truly have to take some random woman and waste her life?” Aegon sulked.
“There are worse fates than living like a queen,” Daemon said.
“You know what I mean,” Aegon hissed. “She would never truly be a wife, or rather, I would never truly be a husband to her, and she would never be a mother.”
“Um, if Loras were to be...present, do you think there might be a chance that you could…” Daemon tried to ask.
“If Rhaenys was there, could you fuck a man?” Aegon asked dryly.
“I just thought I’d ask,” Daemon said, raising his hands. “As it stands then, your best option is to choose either Arianne or Margaery, as they both already know the truth, be as open as you can with them about the limitations of the potential marriage, and see if they’ll agree.”
“You’re right,” Aegon sighed, “as are Rhaenys and Mother. Let’s dine together tonight in my solar, the two of us and Rhaenys, and go over it more then.”
“Alright,” Daemon said, pocketing his orb as he stood up. “I’ll see you then, brother.”
*****
“So, do you think that you got through to him?” Rhaenys asked as they made their way to their brother’s solar.
“I certainly hope so,” Daemon said. “We’ve had kings who took multiple wives in succession, kings who took multiple wives at once, and a king who took his wife and every woman he laid eyes on, but the only kings we’ve ever had who took no queens at all are Daeron and Baelor, and neither was a particularly good example.”
“You were obsessed with the young dragon as a boy,” Rhaenys chuckled.
“Oh, he’s unfathomably cool, but he was an idiot,” Daemon said, “and the less said about Baelor, the better.”
“On that, we’re agreed,” Rhaenys said as they approached Aegon’s door.
“He’s expecting you,” Ser Loras said, letting them in.
“Ah, please come in,” Aegon said, sounding excited. “As it’s just the three of us, I figured a simpler meal would suffice and had the cooks make a few lovely lamprey pies.”
“Sounds lovely,” Rhaenys said, taking her seat.
“Smells lovely too,” Daemon added, sitting next to her.
“Please,” Aegon said, gesturing to the food, “dig in.”
“I must say that you seem to be in better spirits than earlier,” Daemon commented.
“I spent much of the last few hours thinking about what you said, and I’ve come to a decision on the matter,” Aegon said.
“And that would be?” Daemon asked as he enjoyed the lamprey filling of the pie.
The sea creatures might have been hideous, but they were also delicious.
“My primary concern before was the idea that I was going to condemn my potential wife to a life without any of the usual joys that marriage is meant to bring,” Aegon said. “I’m still opposed to that idea, and so I’ve elected not to do so.”
“Oh, for the love of...Aegon, you need a wife, and the realm needs a queen,” Rhaenys snapped. “You don’t want rumors of your...nature getting out to the more pious cunts of the realm.”
“I’m aware,” Aegon said dryly, “and I’ve decided to wed, but on one condition.”
“Go on,” Daemon said.
“I refuse to condemn my would-be wife to a life of passionless sterility,” Aegon said, “and I cannot risk that she would eventually grow lonely enough to cuckold me with some random man. The throne will pass to another of Targaryen blood.”
“So, what are you planning to do?” Rhaenys asked.
“If I didn’t take a wife at all, or if I did and she simply didn’t have children, then the throne would pass to your eldest son,” Aegon said, “so as I was discussing this with Loras earlier, it occurred to me that you could still make my heir for me with my wife.”
“What?” Rhaenys asked in shock.
“It would be the ideal outcome,” Aegon said. “The realm would get a queen, I’d get to stop hearing about how I need to take a wife, she’d get children, and you two would get a paramour. Don’t pretend you aren’t still fucking half of Chataya’s girls when the mood strikes you.”
“There’s a slight difference between going to see a whore and fucking our brother’s wife,” Daemon said dryly.
“You dropped that list you mentioned earlier as you were leaving,” Aegon said, fishing the scroll from his doublet. “You two could tour the realm, meet with each of them, and decide for yourselves which one you like best.”
“Gods be good; you’re serious,” Rhaenys groaned, burying her face in her hands.
“Look,” Aegon said, standing up, “I’m not like you, Daemon, or even you, Rhaenys. I have no desire to take a woman to bed, and if that hasn’t changed by now, it likely never will. I’ve heard all of your arguments about why I should wed, and I truly believe that you’re right, but I’ve also read accounts of how miserable Queen Aelinor was being married to a man who didn’t want her and never gave her children. I refuse to do that to someone else and watch her grow more and more bitter over the years, as being queen doesn’t turn out to make up for wasting her life.”
“You’re a good man, Egg,” Rhaenys said, “an annoyingly good man.”
“Tell me you’ll do this for me,” Aegon sighed as he sat back down. “It would set my mind at ease and make it easier to go through with this farce.”
Daemon just looked at Rhaenys, knowing that he absolutely didn’t want to be the first one to say a word on the matter.
“I suppose,” Rhaenys said. “We could start in the Reach, visit Highgarden, and meet with Lady Margaery. I would prefer Arianne myself, both because I’m more familiar with her and because the woman’s a bloody goddess.”
“I do like the idea of a tour,” Daemon said. “We could start in the Reach, as you said, and finish in Dorne. Would you truly be comfortable ruling the realm alone for the next several months? You did only just become king.”
“I’m hardly alone,” Aegon said. “The council is more than capable of helping me as needed, and I can take on the full duties of ruling for now.”
“If you’re sure,” Daemon said.
“I am,” Aegon said. “I’ll have word sent to Highgarden at once of your impending arrival.”
*****
“By the gods, it’s beautiful,” Rhaenys commented as the gleaming white walls of Highgarden came into view.
“It’s reputed to be the most beautiful castle in Westeros,” Daemon said, “though some say the Eyrie is better.”
“The Eyrie is likely more impressive, but I doubt its beauty compares to this,” Rhaenys said, seemingly entranced.
They had elected to travel by horseback from the capital, accompanied by a sizable force of guards. They could have traveled by ship, but Rhaenys had wanted to see as much of the Reach as they reasonably could, so they decided to take a more scenic route along the Roseroad. It was clear at a glance why this was the most populous region of Westeros, with its vast, fertile fields. He had heard before that the Manderlys were still somewhat bitter centuries later about having been driven from these lands, and though he was fond of the North, he could understand why.
The hour wasn’t terribly late, and they were in no rush, so they allowed their horses to take them the rest of the way at a leisurely pace. As they drew close, the smell wafting from the breeze was so pleasant that he was taken aback by it.
“Why can’t King’s Landing smell like this?” Rhaenys groaned as she noticed.
“We’d have to replace half the population with flowers to manage that,” Daemon remarked. When Rhaenys started to look contemplative, he added, “We can’t do it, sister, dear.”
“I know,” Rhaenys sighed. “You must admit that it does smell better than King’s Landing.”
“I’ve been on battlefields that smelled better than King’s Landing,” Daemon chuckled. “Ah, I think they noticed us.”
In the distance, a small party carrying the green and gold rose banner of House Tyrell approached, led by a man wearing armor far too ornate to belong to anyone but one of Lord Mace’s sons.
“Hail, my prince and princess,” the man called out as he drew close, “and welcome to Highgarden. I am Ser Garlan Tyrell, and my father sent me to greet you and lead you inside.”
“Good day, Ser Garlan,” Rhaenys said warmly. “I must say that tales of your home’s beauty did not exaggerate.”
“You are kind to say so, my princess,” Ser Garlan said, smiling.
As the welcoming party turned and led them towards the castle’s open gates, Daemon urged his charger onward and moved closer to the Tyrell knight.
“Ser Loras speaks very highly of your skill at arms, Ser,” he said.
“My brother likes to boast, and not just of his own abilities,” Ser Garlan chuckled.
“He claims you are better with a sword than he is,” Daemon said.
“He’s bested me a time or two, but I generally come out the victor in our spars,” Ser Garlan replied.
“Well, I hope that I can find out for myself how much better you are,” Daemon said.
“I never turn down a skilled sparing partner,” Ser Garlan said.
Any sparing would have to wait until well after the feast, as Daemon and Rhaenys arrived to find a truly splendorous feast being prepared in their honor.
“Welcome, welcome,” Mace said jovially. “It is an honor and a privilege to host you both.”
“You are most kind, my lord,” Rhaenys said. “The garden maze was simply gorgeous.”
“We would be happy to show you more of it tomorrow,” Alerie commented, walking forward with Margaery. “I do not recall if you’ve met our lovely daughter.”
“Once,” Daemon said, walking up and kissing Alerie’s proffered hand before doing the same to Margaery. Turning to the lovely rose he’d come to see, he said, “You’ve grown even more beautiful, Lady Margaery.”
“I’m so pleased to be able to show you my home, my prince, princess,” Margaery said, a mischievous gleam in her brown eyes. “Loras told me so much about you both when he wrote to tell me of your upcoming trip.”
“Ah, so she does know,” Daemon thought to himself. He figured she’d have been informed ahead of time, but the look in her eye and specific mention of his brother’s lover having written to her personally about it seemed like proof enough that she had been.
“I cannot imagine that our honored guests are not hungry, given the hour,” Olenna said snappishly. “Show them to their quarters so they might prepare for the feast.”
“Er, yes, Mother,” Mace said, signaling to a few servants to lead them to the quarters that had been prepared for them.
They were spacious and opulently decorated, and the royal couple both found themselves impressed by their accommodations. It was common for lords to offer royal couples their own rooms for the duration of their stay, but Daemon and Rhaenys didn’t much care for the custom and had written ahead to explain that. Given what they were hoping to do to said lord’s daughter, not being given his bed had other benefits.
“I’d say Margaery knows why we’re here,” Rhaenys commented as she finished washing up.
“You picked up on that too?” Daemon asked.
“I doubt she fucks every married man she comes across with her eyes,” Rhaenys said dryly.
“Well, she would know that we’re here to assess her potential as Aegon’s queen, not that we’re hoping to make that a physical test,” Daemon chuckled.
“It depends on how much Loras told her about us,” Rhaenys said, drying herself off. “Help me get dressed?”
“I much prefer you as you are,” Daemon rumbled, letting his eyes roam freely over her curvacious body.
“Alas, I cannot attend the feast in the nude, Valonqar,” Rhaenys sighed, turning around and cupping her large, full breasts. “Of course, once the feast is over and we’ve returned here, you can also help me out of my dress.”
She let the pendulous mounds slip from her hands and fall back across her chest, where they sat high and wonderfully firm.
“Gods, I never stood a chance with you,” Daemon growled, rushing to his feet and embracing her. With one hand on her lower back and the other cupping her cheek, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss.
“I told you as much the first time I crawled into your bed,” Rhaenys purred as they broke the kiss. “You were made for me, Daemon.”
“That was quite a shock,” Daemon chuckled at the memory.
“You didn’t complain,” Rhaenys said.
“And I never will,” Daemon promised.
He helped her into the black and red gown she’d selected for the night, one that complemented his doublet well, and the two of them made their way to the feast, led by guards of house Tyrell. It was the sort of feast that their father only threw rarely and on quite special occasions. The dozens of courses brought through over the night were varied but universally delicious, and the sheer amount of red and gold wine from the Arbor was immense.
“...and so there I...there I was,” Mace slurred, having had a fair bit of that wine, “with Storm’s End utterly surrounded. Sta...Stannis was trapped, unable to help his rebel brother at all, which ended up being a deciding factor in how the uprising ended.”
“The siege was something out of one of the songs,” Daemon murmured, and Rhaenys nearly choked on her wine, trying to stop herself from laughing.
Mace Tyrell’s infamous siege of Storm’s End had been an enormous waste of resources, wherein he used the largest army in Westeros to tie up a small garrison of men. Had he brought his men to the Trident, where the final battle ultimately took place, the rebels would have been routed rather than just being forced to surrender when their leader was slain by Ser Arthur. Daemon was polite, though, and not nearly drunk enough to point that out, something that clearly couldn’t be said of his host.
“Mace, I think it’s getting rather late for you,” Olenna said. “Alerie, be a dear and help him take a walk to clear his head before he drinks any more.”
“I...you might be right, Mother,” Mace said, shaking his head. “It went...went right to my head tonight for some reason. I didn’t think I...drank much. My apologies, Princess Dae...Prince Daemon.”
“There’s no harm done, my lord,” Daemon said magnanimously. “I myself find that wine can hit harder when I’m about to come down with some minor malady.”
“Perhaps you should see Maester Lomys in the morning, husband,” Alerie said, helping him to his feet.
“Yes, maybe...maybe I should,” Mace said, going with her.
“I’m afraid I must turn in as well,” Willas said. “I had a very long night yesterday, and I am exhausted.”
“Sleep well, dear,” Olenna said. “Garlan, you’re looking rather tired too.”
Garlan just snorted and said, “Good night all, and my prince, I am looking forward to sparing with you tomorrow.”
“Indeed,” Daemon said, nodding at him.
“Do you get the sense we’re being left alone here?” Rhaenys asked.
“I swear my grandmother is capable of subtlety,” Margaery said quietly.
The beautiful brunette had been seated quite close to them, and they had spent most of the evening chatting with her.
“Now then, perhaps the three of you will be able to discuss matters better without all of the unceasing chatter,” Olenna said.
“My lady, we…” Rhaenys went to say.
“Princess, unlike my fool of a son, I am not in the habit of allowing the obvious to escape me,” Olenna interrupted her. “I know why you are here, as does my granddaughter. Now, I will leave you three to, as I said, discuss matters.”
“Well, we certainly don’t need further proof that she’s capable of being direct,” Daemon commented, earning a short laugh from Margaery as Lady Olenna was escorted out by her massive twin guards.
“So just how much did Ser Loras tell you about our visit?” Rhaenys asked.
Well aware of the fact that they weren’t yet truly alone, Margaery kept her voice down as she replied, saying, “I know that you two are going to be traveling around the Seven Kingdoms seeking a bride for his grace and why you in particular are making that decision.”
“Out of curiosity, how much of your family knows about your brother?” Rhaenys asked quietly.
“Grandmother does, of course, as do Willas, Garlan, and I,” Margaery replied. “Mother might, but I don’t think that she’s ever actually said anything, and as for Father, it can be difficult to gauge what he knows generally. Grandmother would be inclined to say nothing in most cases, but I think she underestimates him just a bit.”
Daemon wasn’t sure of that, but the lovely creature before him seemed not to take much after her father. Her figure was slim, for one thing, as the lovely green gown she was wearing showed. Beyond that, however, she seemed clever without being anywhere near as abrasive as her grandmother. If her sweet demeanor was something that she either wasn’t just putting on, or could maintain long-term, she could make a good queen. The fact that she was stunningly beautiful didn’t hurt his opinion of her either.
“Is your grandmother always like that?” he asked.
“For as long as I’ve known her,” Margaery laughed. “I never met my grandfather, as he had already died before I was born, but I get the sense that she was the power behind and occasionally in front of the throne while he was Lord of Highgarden. She seems to see my father as his father come again and never hesitates to tell him what she thinks in a given moment.”
“Would you seek to emulate her as queen?” Rhaenys asked.
“Yes, and no,” Margaery replied. “I love my grandmother and think that she’s one of the cleverest women I’ve ever met, but I also recognize how she undermines my father. It’s bad enough with him being the Lord Paramount of the Mander, but if he were king, well, it’s never a good thing for a king to look weak, and I’m smart enough to recognize that.”
“Good answer,” Daemon said, hoping that she was being as honest as she seemed to be. “Now, about…”
“There are, I’m aware, quite a number of other things that we’ll need to talk about regarding the future queen’s role, but they probably shouldn’t be discussed so openly,” Margaery said quietly. “If I were to escort you two back to your quarters, I could come by in a couple minutes to talk more privately.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Rhaenys said.
The three of them rose from their chairs, and Margaery led them through the winding hallways of the castle. As they entered their chambers, Margaery just winked at them and continued onward. Shutting the door, Daemon wondered why she felt the need to wait, given that they could have slipped her in unseen, but he was happy to let her play whatever game she wished.
“So what do you think?” he asked once he’d shut the door.
“She’s clever, capable, and sweet,” Rhaenys said. “She seems like the kind of woman who could easily charm the nobles and smallfolk alike, so she’d potentially be a good queen in that sense.”
“I’d have to see just how honest she is about recognizing her grandmother’s shortcomings,” Daemon said, “but if she spoke true about that, then she would fit my most basic criteria. The fact that she already knows about Egg and Loras is a definite bonus as well.”
“She’s beautiful too,” Rhaenys commented, sitting down on the bed. “Can’t forget that.”
“Certainly not,” Daemon said.
“I’m flattered, princess,” Margaery piped up, poking her head in from the clearly fake section of the wall.
“I guess Maegor wasn’t the only paranoid madman to ever commission the building of a castle,” Rhaenys murmured.
“Far from it, I suspect,” Margaery said, pushing the wall open enough to slip in and closing it behind her. “We can speak freely here.”
“So you know what Aegon would expect of you as his queen?” Daemon asked.
“He’s such a dear man,” Margaery said. “I was willing to be his queen as it was, knowing that I would be his wife in name only and quite possibly never have children unless he happened to get drunk enough to try.”
“I suspect the amount of wine it would take for that would keep him from being able to perform,” Rhaenys said.
“It’s a good thing he came up with a solution then,” Margaery said. “As I said, your brother is a better man than most. I couldn’t believe it when Loras said how much the prospect of having a wife hurt by never having children bothered him.”
“And you’re willing to go along with his solution?” Daemon asked.
“Am I willing to let you be my Harwin Strong?” Margaery asked, smirking. “I don’t see why not. There is no rival family within your own to dispute our children’s legitimacy, and as they will also be yours, you have no reason to try to supplant them with your own. You’re also one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met.”
“He is gorgeous, isn’t he?” Rhaenys said, standing up and walking over to him. She pressed her arse against his crotch and leaned her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. “You are aware of the other stipulation here, right?”
“Oh yes,” Margaery said, walking towards them.
“And that won’t be a problem?” Rhaenys asked.
“A woman as beautiful as you?” Margaery asked rhetorically. “Not at all.”
“I wouldn’t be your first; I take it?” Rhaenys asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Margaery said. “I have a cousin who is very sweet and very nice too.”
Rhaenys laughed at that and pulled her in, making her gasp.
“I wonder how sweet you are,” she murmured, grinning as the other woman’s brown eyes darkened with obvious lust.
“We could find out together if our lovely little rose is willing,” Daemon said, walking around them and brushing Margaery’s long brown hair over one shoulder to expose her neck.
Daemon was a tall man, a few inches taller than their late father, who hadn’t been short either. Rhaenys was tall as well, for a woman, standing a few inches shy of six feet. Margaery, on the other hand, was of a far more average height, and being trapped between the two of them made her seem genuinely small.
“Gods, Loras was right about you two,” Margaery gasped.
“Was our gossiping kingsguard at least flattering in his assessment?” Daemon asked, pressing his lips to her neck.
“V...very!” Margaery shuddered. “You will be a first for me, my prince.”
“Daemon,” he said. “Women I’m going to fuck get to call me by name.”
“Gods!” Margaery cried, almost shaking with arousal.
“Tell us what you want, and we’ll give it to you,” Rhaenys said.
“I want you,” Margaery said. “I want both of you.”
“Then you’re in luck,” Daemon said. “What we have in mind for you, we only ever do together.”
“I should point out that there are other women we’re considering,” Rhaenys said.
“Then I had best make a good impression,” Margaery said, pulling her down for a searing, hot kiss.
Rhaenys squeaked in surprise at her sudden boldness but recovered quickly and deepened the kiss, exploring the younger woman’s mouth with her probing tongue. Margaery moaned into her mouth, and that moan grew louder as Daemon started peppering her neck with kisses. He reached around her and ran his hands over her body through the gown until he reached her small breasts.
“Oh gods!” Margaery cried.
“Help me undress her,” Rhaenys said. “I want to see my potential goodsister in all her glory.”
Between the two of them, they made short work of her dress, managing not to tear anything in the process, and before long, Margaery Tyrell was standing before them in nothing but her small clothes. Her breasts were as small as they felt, but they were very perky, with two sizable and, in that moment, very hard pink nipples.
“This isn’t fair,” Margaery complained. “I want to see all of you as well.”
“Trust me, you will,” Rhaenys said, stepping towards her, “but first, I want you naked.”
She reached down and removed the other woman’s small clothes, revealing her tantalizing forest of brown curls.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” Rhaenys sighed as she brushed her fingers through the damp brown hair.
“L...Loras is generally discreet, but he’s always been a little gossipy with me,” Margaery stuttered. “He’s told me about some of the things he’s overheard while guarding your door. The screams and shrieks, the praising exclamations about Daemon’s size, how it can go on for hours, and how even he can’t fathom such pleasure. I’ve been dreaming of being taken by you both since his last letter came in.”
“Remind me to have a word with our flower knight,” Daemon murmured.
Before Margaery could say anything, Rhaenys said, “As you lay in bed, imagining what it would be like to be fucked by my husband and me, did you touch this hot little cunt of yours?”
“Yes,” Margaery gasped.
“Show me,” Rhaenys commanded.
Margaery shuddered and slid a hand down along her flat belly until her fingers were stroking her sodden sex. Whimpering in pleasure, she began to pleasure herself as she usually did, curling a couple fingers through her folds to gather her wetness and rubbing her throbbing clit in little circles.
“Stop!” Rhaenys ordered, and Margaery froze.
Holding out a hand, Rhaenys cocked an eyebrow at her expectantly, and Margaery placed her hand in the older woman’s. The princess brought her hand to her face and wrapped her lips around her index finger, sucking the fluids from it.
“Such a sweet little rose,” Rhaenys whispered. Extending her hand back to Daemon, she said, “Taste her for yourself, Valonqar.”
Margaery felt Daemon lick her middle finger and moaned, her knees nearly buckling as she grew more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. They hadn’t even touched her cunt, and she felt like she could cum.
“How do you want to be fucked?” Daemon asked. “This being your first time, we’ll start out however you like.”
“On...on my hands and knees,” Margaery said.
“Truly?” Daemon asked.
“Well,” Margaery said, turning around to look at him, “I would like to taste my beautiful princess while you split me in half.”
Feeling emboldened by the look of shock he gave her, she kissed him. He deepened the kiss immediately, and Margaery nearly screamed when she felt Rhaenys push one of her long, slender fingers inside her.
“She’s so tight,” the princess moaned. “You’re going to ruin her, Daemon.”
“I want you to ruin me!” Margaery cried as she broke the kiss. “You don’t even need to worry about me bleeding. I slipped in mud getting off of a horse when I was a girl and landed with my legs split.”
“That must have been unpleasant,” Rhaenys said, wincing.
“I thought I was dying,” Margaery said, shuddering at the memory. “It took my mother ages to calm me down.”
“Get on your hands and knees on the bed, and we’ll join you in a moment,” Rhaenys said.
Margaery got on the bed, and Rhaenys quickly tutted and said, “Turn around now.”
“B...but…” Margaery went to object.
“You’ll see us both when you’ve been a good girl,” Rhaenys said.
“Fucking hells, sister,” Daemon groaned.
“Don’t pretend you don’t love it when I get like this,” Rhaenys laughed.
“You know I do,” Daemon growled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in for a searing, hot kiss.
The two of them quickly undressed, and Daemon smirked when he saw Margaery was nearly shaking with desire. He might have been a little irritated by Loras’ loose lips, but, provided that his little sister was the only one he gossiped to, he couldn’t complain too much, given the results.
“You’re being so good,” Rhaenys purred as she approached Margaery, running her hand over one of the girl’s round arsecheeks and up along her bare back.
“Anything for…” Margaery trailed off as Rhaenys climbed into bed and came into sight. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”
“She really is,” Daemon thought to himself.
With olive skin just a shade lighter than her mother’s, large, full breasts, a slim waist, and wide hips, her body was mouth watering. Her face was just as perfect, with full lips, high cheekbones, a lovely straight nose, and intense violet eyes. Combined with her mother’s long, dark hair, there was little wonder why Daemon had been taken with her from the start. Of course, the gorgeous little rose eagerly waiting to be plucked on her hands and knees between them was beautiful too.
“As are you, my sweet,” Rhaenys said.
“Thank YOU!” Margaery screamed as Daemon gave her cunt a long, probing lick. “Dae...Daemon I…”
“Mmm, she really does taste good,” Daemon murmured as he languidly ate her out from behind.
“I’ll have to try her once you’ve seeded her,” Rhaenys said. When Margaery’s eyes grew wide, she added, “We’ll be ensuring that you drink moontea, of course, but I fully intend to slurp a load of my beloved husband’s seed from your pretty little cunt.”
Margaery just squeaked and stared at the princess with wide, lust-darkened eyes. When Daemon pushed one of his fingers inside her, she groaned.
“Fuck me, your fingers feel enormous,” she whimpered.
“He has very large hands, my Valonqar,” Rhaenys said. Leaning in, she whispered, “They match his cock.”
Daemon chuckled when he heard her gasp.
“Don’t worry, pet,” Rhaenys said. “You’ll take every inch of him just fine, and I intend to watch the look on your face as you do.”
“I suppose that’s my cue,” Daemon said wryly as he got onto the bed and lined himself up with her dripping cunt.
“That...oh gods, that’s his…” Margaery trailed off and turned to look around, but Rhaenys cupped her face in her hands.
“Keep your eyes focused on me, Margaery,” Rhaenys said softly.
Wide brown eyes met mischief-filled purple ones, and a guttural moan left Margaery’s throat as Daemon pushed forward and the bulbous head of his cock popped inside her.
“Oh fuck!” Margaery cried.
“Big, isn’t he?” Rhaenys asked, grinning.
“Big?” Margaery asked incredulously. “It feels like he’s going to split me in half.”
“He is,” Rhaenys giggled, “and you’re going to love every moment of it.”
“Gods above, you’re tight,” Daemon groaned as he pushed forward again, conquering another inch of her sweltering depths.
“A bloody mare would feel tight around you,” Margaery hissed, making them both laugh.
It was intense, so much more intense than she would have imagined, and it hurt a bit despite her lacking her maidenhead, but the growing pleasure that came from being stretched and filled was already starting to overshadow the pain. She grabbed the sheets on either side of her, her grip on them so tight that her knuckles turned white.
“Oh gods, you feel so deep,” she moaned.
“You’ve taken him so well,” Rhaenys said, smiling. “You’ve got just about half of his cock inside you now.”
“Half!?” Margaery shrieked, turning to look at Daemon, only for her breath to hitch.
He was staring at her with those intense, dark purple eyes of his, and she let out a shuddering breath at the sight. He was every inch the warrior, his muscular body looking like it had been cut from stone. A scattering of scars littered his flesh, and she felt an overwhelming desire to trace each one with her fingers and lips.
“Naughty girl,” Rhaenys chided, “I didn’t give you permission to look back at him. Clearly, you need more distraction.”
Without another word, the older woman cupped her cheek, pulled her face back to her, and kissed her. Margaery moaned into her mouth as she returned the kiss, and that moan grew louder as she felt Daemon pull a couple inches of his cock from her clinging depths, only to thrust forward even deeper.
“Seven hells, is he going to need to push my lungs out of the way for that?” Margaery thought to herself. It was already starting to feel like he was in her stomach.
Trapped between them, Margaery could only moan and cry out as Daemon conquered inch after inch of her, and by the time she finally felt his hips pressing into her plush arse, she was sweating and shaking from the exertion.
“That’s all of it,” Daemon murmured in her ear, nibbling on the lobe. “You took all of me, my good girl.”
“I knew you could,” Rhaenys said.
“It’s so...much,” Margaery whimpered. “It burns, but it feels so good too.”
“I can wait here for a moment,” Daemon said. “You were so wet for me that this went better than I thought it would.”
“While he waits for you to adjust to him,” Rhaenys said, “I can think of a couple things you could do.”
She sprawled out on the bed, her legs spread and her dripping, wet cunt on full display. Margaery looked down and saw that the older woman’s pubic hair had been largely shaved off, leaving just a small triangle of neatly kept black curls atop her folds. She’d have to ask about that when she could think again, though the idea of placing a blade that close to her cunt wasn’t the most pleasant one she’d ever had.
“For letting me enjoy the pleasure of fucking your husband, how could I say no?” Margaery asked.
She lowered her face until it was buried between Rhaenys’ thighs and began to lap enthusiastically at her cunt.
“Fuck,” Rhaenys sighed. “This really isn’t your first time eating cunt is it?”
“As I said, my cousin Desmera is very sweet,” Margaery grinned before placing a nice wet kiss on Rhaenys’ clit.
“Gods, I never tire of watching this,” Daemon groaned, remembering all the nights they had spent with a whore positioned just like Margaery was.
“It’s a sight you’ll enjoy often if you pick me,” Margaery said, grinning impishly back at him.
Rhaenys pulled her face back down and moaned as she began swirling her tongue around her throbbing clit.
“Oh, just like that,” Rhaenys moaned. “Fingers too.”
Margaery pushed two fingers inside her and started curling them upward, searching for a little patch of rough skin. When she felt the pads of her digits brush against the very thing she was looking for, she was immediately rewarded with a loud moan.
“Oh fuck, yet!” Rhaenys whimpered.
“Are you feeling okay?” Daemon asked, aware of the fact that she felt like she’d relaxed around him a bit.
“It’s stopped burning as much,” Margaery replied. “Fuck me, Daemon.”
Daemon grinned and pulled a few inches of his cock from her tight, wet tunnel before slamming back inside. Margaery grunted and moaned against Rhaenys, whose grip on her scalp had tightened. She felt the princess’ thick thighs starting to shake on either side of her head and figured that she was getting close, so she wrapped her lips around the other woman’s little pearl and began to suck gently on it.
“Holy fuck!” Rhaenys cried, her thighs tightening their grip on the brunette’s head as she soared towards her peak.
Daemon had slowly built himself up to a steady, hard pace and was surprised at just how well Margaery was taking his roughness. He had known that without her maidenhead, she’d be a little better off than she would be otherwise, but he hadn’t expected her to be able to take a pounding like this, much less throw her arse back against him in time with his thrusts. The muffled moans spilling from the girl’s lips, combined with how divine her tight, hot little cunt felt, were driving him wild.
“Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Rhaenys cried, her back arching off of the bed as her orgasm neared rapidly. “Gods, gods, FUCK!”
Daemon grinned ferally as he watched his wife cum under the talented mouth of their new lover, and his grip on her hips tightened so much that he knew he’d leave bruises. The sound of his lips slapping her arse and the squelching of her dripping cunt echoed through the room, though it was soon drowned out by her cries.
“More, more!” Margaery cried, sounding out of her mind with lust. “You feel so fucking good!”
“So do you,” Daemon groaned. “I could have this cunt day and night.”
“Do it!” Margaery almost screamed. “Make it yours; make me yours!”
Daemon felt himself nearing his peak and reached underneath her to stroke her clit. The second he did, she shrieked, her back arching, and only a few thrusts later, she came.
“DAEMON!” Margaery squealed, her whole body going taut, and a torrent of fluid gushed from her cunt as her orgasm thundered through her.
“Fucking hells,” Daemon groaned as he came too, filling her with rope after rope of his seed.
He caught sight of a glassy-eyed Rhaenys as he came, and he almost laughed at the wide grin on her face. Lowering himself down, he held himself up to keep from crushing her and buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers as he panted for breath.
“Never...cum that hard...in my life,” Margaery panted as she nuzzled one of Rhaenys’ thighs.
“My Daemon’s always been gifted,” Rhaenys laughed.
The older woman stroked both of their hair as they recovered from the mind-numbing pleasure that they’d just experienced. Looking up at his wife, Daemon felt his cock twitch at the raw desire that still filled her violet eyes and knew that not only was this night far from done, but that, whether with Margaery or someone else, he had many nights like this to look forward to.