ACT II: The Reign of Jaehaerys I — Part 1: The Court and Its Loves (59 AC – 87 AC)
Chapter 12: The Sigh and the Fragility of Blood (80–82 AC)
My arrival in King’s Landing on The Cannibal’s back was tumultuous, to say the least.
King Jaehaerys awaited me in the Red Keep’s courtyard, his face glowing red with rage and his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets from political panic.
As soon as I set foot on solid ground, the king escorted me to his private quarters, gesturing frantically as he paced back and forth:
“Have you completely lost your mind, Arthos?!
Attacking the Titan of Braavos, invading the Temple of the Many-Faced God, and slaughtering dozens of people on the pier?!
What if they declare war against the Seven Kingdoms?!
Do you not think about the consequences?!”
I adjusted the folds of my Valyrian tunic, keeping an absolutely serene expression as I poured myself a glass of wine:
“Jaehaerys, listen to yourself…
I went there carrying merely a single vial of blood and, in a matter of minutes, brought the greatest Free City in the world to its knees.
You have five active dragonriders in your family, Velaryon naval supremacy, and, above all, you still have me and my fluffy dragon.
What exactly are you afraid of?”
Jaehaerys stopped, his face so red he looked about to collapse, and bellowed at the top of his lungs:
“Do not call that monstrous abomination ‘fluffy’!”
I let out a loud, mocking laugh right in the monarch’s face.
My laughter was the final straw: the king’s hand flew to the pommel of *Blackfyre*, and for a second it seemed he would draw the ancestral sword against me.
However, realizing the insanity of trying to cut me down, Jaehaerys froze his movement, walked to the table, downed an entire cup of wine in one gulp, and closed his eyes to try and calm himself.
“You know what?…
I’m not going to care about this anymore,” he declared, his voice wavering as he massaged his temples.
“You caused this diplomatic mess, Arthos.
If Braavos sends a fleet or if the Iron Bank closes our vaults, you will resolve absolutely everything yourself!”
He turned his back and stormed out of the chamber, slamming the door hard, like someone washing his hands of an impending disaster.
However, as the days passed, the king realized he was worrying completely in vain.
I am not merely a dragonrider mounted on a large beast; I am an ancestral blood sorcerer.
Unlike the ignorant lords of Westeros, the people of Essos still retain the living memory and real terror of what Valyrian sorcery can do when channeled in a vile and unrestrained manner.
Less than two weeks later, a diplomatic fleet from Braavos docked respectfully in King’s Landing.
The Sealord’s envoy offered formal apologies for the “lamentable incident” involving the spy in the North, reaffirmed all commercial agreements with the Iron Throne, and committed to covering the costs of repairing the capital’s harbor.
The matter was closed without a single drop of Westerosi blood being spilled.
Days later, during the regular Small Council meeting, the matter returned to the agenda merely as a settled formality.
Septon Barth stared at me from across the table, adjusting his reading glasses with a heavy sigh:
“You were terribly reckless, Arthos, my dear friend…
I asked the Braavosi diplomat about the total number of dead at the pier and the temple.
He confirmed that over a hundred people lost their lives that afternoon.
I understand you had your people’s honor and your vassals’ blood to protect, and I know perfectly well you are not a servant of the Crown, but rather our ally…
Still, I ask that you consider more carefully the repercussions of your actions for the realm.”
Lord Rodrik Arryn, the Master of Laws and Lord of the Eyrie, adjusted his posture and chimed in with a pompous tone of disdain:
“The Septon is entirely right.
Putting the financial stability of the entire continent at risk…
and for whose sake?
A simple peasant girl from the North.”
I turned my gray eyes toward Lord Arryn, holding a gaze so cold that the room’s temperature seemed to drop three degrees:
“I do not recall at what point in history the North ceased to be part of the Seven Kingdoms, Lord Arryn…
for the life of a subject from my land to be treated as something insignificant by you.”
The Master of Laws tried to hold my gaze, but a subtle twitch in his chin betrayed his discomfort.
“Mind you…” I continued, resting my elbows on the oak table.
“A blood sorcerer’s word possesses an ancient and terrible power.
And I swore before Mary’s family that I would take vengeance upon every single person responsible for that attack.”
I leaned slightly toward Rodrik Arryn, staring into the depths of his soul:
“And I guarantee you, my lord…
I will take vengeance upon all of you.”
The silence that fell over the Small Council room was sepulchral.
No one dared to cough or shift a parchment.
I blinked slowly, breaking the tension with a serene smile:
“Now that this trivial matter has been properly clarified, we can move on to the next item on the agenda.”
Jaehaerys cleared his throat to dispel the heavy air:
“Very well…
The official announcement of the betrothal between my daughter, Princess Daella, and Lord Rodrik Arryn will be made tonight during the royal feast.”
The other councilors rushed to congratulate the Lord of the Vale, who forced a joyful, radiant smile onto his face.
To me, that was simply perfect.
The wedding announcement was received with festivities and celebrations among the court’s nobles.
Watching the hall from afar, I saw young Princess Saera contort her face into a scowl of pure envy upon realizing that her timid sister, Daella, had become the center of all attention.
Through my arcane perception, I could feel the spoiled brat’s mind already plotting a way to ruin her sister’s joy.
The following day, the court returned to its futile routine.
The threat of war with Braavos was already completely forgotten by the lords, as if the matter had lost its thrill—the people of the capital are truly fascinating in their unpredictability.
Upon returning to my quarters in the Tower of the Hand in the late afternoon, I closed the oak door and channeled a spark of power.
The inscriptions and blood glyphs carved into the stone walls glowed a vivid red for an instant, sealing the room against any external sound.
I turned around and encountered a cowering figure in the center of the chamber.
“Well, well…
Princess Daella,” I commented, surprised.
“How may I help you today?”
The fifteen-year-old girl took two steps back, startled.
She wore a heavy, dark velvet cloak covering her body from neck to feet.
She began stammering violently:
“L-Lord Vaelarys…
I…
I have a very important request to make of you…”
I let out a low laugh, walking slowly toward her:
“Let me guess… New chapters come out on g.com first.
you finally grew tired of Saera’s cruelties and came to ask me to kill her?
A very poisonous snake in her quarters should solve the problem…
or do you prefer I make her suffer more slowly?”
Daella opened her mouth, shocked and wide-eyed at my casualness:
“You…
would you do that, Lord Vaelarys?!”
Then she shook her head in panic, her cheeks flushing:
“N-no!
I mean…
no!
I would never ask you to kill my own sister!”
“What a pity…” I mocked.
“So what brings such a pure maiden to my private quarters?”
The princess turned completely red, unable to articulate a single word.
I looked into her eyes and smirked:
“Let me guess again…
Saera blackmailed you and forced you to come to my room.
And beneath that heavy cloak, you are wearing an extremely indecent outfit given by her…
Your sister wants you to lie with me so everyone knows you betrayed your betrothed before the wedding, ruining your betrothal to Lord Arryn.
Right?”
Daella nodded in silence, her eyes brimming with shame.
“Well…
your little sister’s plan will not work,” I declared, walking until I stopped directly behind her.
“Do you see these glyphs pulsing red on the walls?
This prevents any sound from leaving this room, no matter how loud you scream.
So…
what do you intend to do now?”
Daella looked at the walls and swallowed hard, her voice coming out in a wavering whisper:
“No sound?…
But what good is that if someone sees me leaving your room like this?”
“My dear princess…
Maegor built this castle over dozens of secret passages.
And I know one in particular that leads directly into your wardrobe.”
“In my wardrobe?!” she asked, surprised.
“Yes.
Now…
do you want me to take you back there?”
Daella hesitated for two seconds.
Then, her trembling hands went to the knot of her cloak and released it.
The heavy fabric fell to the stone floor, revealing that the girl was wearing only a sheer, revealing silk dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“I never imagined you possessed such wanton garments, princess…” I murmured, appreciating the view.
“It was…
Saera was the one who gave it to me,” she answered, turning to me with her face burning an intense crimson hue.
“I…
I am terribly nervous about my wedding, Lord Vaelarys…”
I focused my arcane hearing on the stone wall to the left.
I could feel Saera’s presence hidden inside the secret passage, watching everything through a crack.
“Very well…
if you wish, I can teach you a few practical things to make you considerably less nervous,” I said in a soft voice.
I held Daella’s shoulders and made her kneel on the floor in front of me.
I unfastened my trousers and pulled out my erect member, giving a light, slapping strike against the princess’s face.
Daella didn’t even blink; her purple eyes became hypnotized and slightly cross-eyed staring at my size.
I cannot deny that seeing her shyness melt away like that heightened my arousal even further.
Without me having to order it, Daella moved closer and began working on my member with small, hesitant kisses and licks.
I held her silver hair in a firm ponytail and commanded:
“Open your mouth wide, my princess.”
Daella obeyed immediately.
Proving my theory that quiet, puritanical girls are the most wanton when liberated, she stuck her tongue out with an expression so erotic and wanton on her beautiful Valyrian face that any virgin boy would have ejaculated instantly.
I began fucking the princess’s mouth in a calm, slow, and rhythmic manner, without forcing her throat, gradually deepening the movement while she received everything with impressive mastery.
Through the wall, I noticed that our “witness,” Saera, rushed out of the passage, likely trying to fetch a guard or servant to catch us in the act, since sound couldn’t penetrate my magical barrier.
After a few intense minutes, I was already fucking the timid girl’s throat mercilessly.
With a final, deep thrust, I released my warm seed deep inside her throat.
Then, I pulled out my member, still expelling milk, and painted her entire Valyrian face, which was already a mess of saliva and sweat.
I rested my dick on Daella’s cheek as she caught her breath on the floor.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps on the other side of my room’s main door.
Using my arcane vocal projection, I directed my voice straight into the mind of the young nobleman Saera had brought, who was inches away from touching the doorknob:
*If you lay a single finger on this door, I will flay your skin and kill you before you can scream.*
The young man froze in the hallway, pale with dread.
I heard Saera whispering and ordering him to push the door, but the boy simply didn’t have enough courage in his body to face the Sorcerer of King’s Landing.
*Get away from my door.
Now!*
I projected a magical illusion and summoned dozens of rats from below, causing them to emerge from the hallway cracks.
Saera’s and the boy’s shrieks of terror echoed down the corridor as they ran off in a full sprint.
I let out a sarcastic laugh, lifted Princess Daella from the floor, and threw her onto the middle of my bed.
I plunged between her legs and ran my tongue over her intimacy until bringing her to supreme nirvana and multiple consecutive orgasms that left her trembling and completely dehydrated.
At some point during the night, Saera returned to her hiding spot in the secret passage to watch.
I felt like sending more rats to scare her, but I decided to give her something better instead.
“You know, my beautiful princess…
your little sister Saera is hidden over there in the wall watching us right now.
What do you think about giving her a real show?”
Daella opened a victorious, wanton smile:
“Yes…”
I held the princess’s legs, turned her body onto her stomach, and pulled her against my chest, positioning her in the exact direction where Saera was watching us.
I held her knees up and, without asking permission, drove into her all at once.
Being terribly aroused and lubricated, the girl offered almost no resistance, despite being a virgin.
I spent the entire night fucking Daella with force and an unshakeable rhythm before Saera’s eyes, releasing my heat deep inside her womb several times until dawn.
At some point in the early morning, the spoiled princess couldn’t stand watching her sister enjoy so much pleasure and fled the secret passage, leaving us alone.
In the morning, I took Princess Daella back to her quarters through the secret passage.
During the royal breakfast in the main hall, Queen Alysanne announced to the family that Daella had woken up slightly indisposed and would not be participating in the meals.
I noticed Alyssane staring at me from across the table with a scowl of pure dissatisfaction, which made Jaehaerys look at me suspiciously.
However, the king said nothing.
After all, he knew nothing, and as long as it wasn’t the queen I was fucking in secret, Jaehaerys had long stopped caring about my affairs.
In the afternoon, I crossed paths with Lord Rodrik Arryn in the Small Council corridors.
“Lord Arryn…
my congratulations on the betrothal.
I apologize for not congratulating you properly yesterday,” I commented with false courtesy.
The Lord of the Eyrie smiled, flattered:
“Thank you, Lord Vaelarys.
Don’t worry about it.”
“Your future wife is an extremely sweet, dedicated, and helpful girl…” I continued, staring at him.
“Yes!
I am very fortunate to have her at my side.” He speaks with pride.
“And she is also extraordinarily flexible…”I completed it.
Rodrik frowned, confused:
“Flexible?…
What did you say, Lord Vaelarys?”
“Ah, pay no mind…
Just the drivel and ramblings of an old sorcerer.
Look, King Jaehaerys is approaching, let us focus on the meeting.”
Later, I spotted Daella walking through the castle gardens.
From afar, she and Saera locked eyes—and the previously timid girl’s face wore a calm, victorious smile of superiority over her sister.
Days passed, and naturally, I continued giving my “private lessons” to Daella, with my dear Daenerys joining us in bed on several occasions.
On the wedding day, Daella spent the entire night awake in my quarters, returning to her room only at dawn to bathe before the ceremony.
I am certain Lord Arryn will find his bride a bit tired tonight…
Hahaha.
Before she departed for the Vale, I forbade Daella from using any of the techniques and positions she learned from me with her husband.
Not that it should matter much, since I doubt an ignorant Andal lord like Rodrik Arryn knows anything beyond the traditional position of missionary.
After the royal party’s departure, Queen Alysanne approached me in the gardens.
The queen knew her daughters had been seeking me out for advice and instruction.
“How were Daella’s lessons, my friend?…” Alysanne asked, her eyes troubled.
“Do you think…
do you think we failed her?”
I looked at the queen without the slightest fear:
“Yes, Alysanne.
You failed Daella…
and you failed terribly with Saera.
Your youngest daughter is a little manipulative monster who will very soon cross an extreme and unforgivable line.”
Alysanne lowered her head, saddened:
“I thought that…
if you taught her, perhaps she would change…”
“I am neither her father nor her mother, Alysanne,” I replied coldly.
“Upbringing and boundaries should have come from you two.”
“The weight of ruling the Seven Kingdoms took away our time for family…” she offered as justification.
“You truly are Jaehaerys’s wife…” I mocked.
“You are even using the exact same lame excuses now.”
Alysanne gave a weak, melancholy smile:
“Do you think Daella will be happy in the Vale, Arthos?”
“No,” I declared directly.
“She will not be happy.”
The answer caused the queen to walk away in silence, carrying the weight of guilt in her chest.
And my words came true with tragic precision two years later, in 82 AC.
Princess Daella Targaryen passed away at the Eyrie due to severe complications during the birth of her first daughter, little Aemma Arryn.
The news of Daella’s death left me reflecting alone in my tower.
Despite her being a girl I watched grow up at court and with whom I shared my bed and pleasure intensely, I had known in advance through my Greensight and the chronicles of my past that she would die in childbirth…
and I did not lift a single finger to save her.
I sacrificed the life of a sweet, gentle girl merely to ensure that Lord Rodrik Arryn suffered the pain of loss and to condemn little Aemma to grow up without a mother’s love.1
In the end, that is what I truly am in this world: I am no hero, I am not just, and I am not good.
I am a selfish, vile, calculating, and evil bastard.
Daella possessed a ridiculously low density of blood sorcery in her body.
And infants conceived by magical bloodlines require the mother’s energy and arcana heat to sustain the miracle of life during gestation; without that magic, childbirth becomes a physical death sentence.
I could have used my sorcery to save Daella’s life, just as I did with the eldest princess years ago.1 But I chose to do nothing.
At least it comforted me to know that, in the brief moments and few years she was alive, the timid princess experienced true carnal pleasure and enjoyed happiness before her destiny was fulfilled.
But it's easier to manipulate if you ask yourself why.Could it be?