ACT III: The Reign of Jaehaerys I — Part 2: The Severance and Exile (87 AC – 101 AC)
Warning: This chapter contains some Yuri content.
The protagonist has two women from a household and culture where incest is normal; he himself is partly from that same culture, so this will happen, especially when he shares a bed with them.
And no, it won’t happen without him and his presence.
Chapter 15: Passion, Fire, and Royal Partnership (88–89 AC)
In the depths of the fathomless Black Stone Tower, a clash of titanic proportions shook the arcane structures of the North!
Atop the black linen sheets, in the center of a chamber illuminated by the mystical glow of Valyrian runes, the heroic sorcerer Arthos Vaelarys found himself surrounded!
Yet, even in apparent disadvantage against two overwhelming forces of nature, the invincible mage did not back down!
Brandishing his monumental staff with unyielding vigor and determination, he fought bravely to bend the vile, untamed, and malignant dragon-princesses to his irresistible will!
Lying directly atop Daenerys’s soft body was Viserra, the legitimate and sovereign lady of this tower.
Holding her with relentless firmness, I forced her legs wide open and penetrated her wildly, plunging into my wife’s warm flesh.
Daenerys, acting as an ardent accomplice beneath her, used one hand to massage Viserra’s full breasts while the other glided masterfully between her thighs, teasing her younger sister’s clitoris.
The double assault drove Viserra to cum in violent spasms, coming again and again in rapid succession, completely helpless in the crossfire between the two of us.
I drove all the way inside her one last time, sinking to the root with the raw brutality of the First Men, and released myself like a wild bull deep within my wife’s womb.
The excess of my seed was so vast that it overflowed and leaked down her thighs as I slowly withdrew.
I walked over to the dark wood desk in the corner of the room, where my goblet of wine rested.
Filling the goblet, I watched from afar as Daenerys continued to tease Viserra, keeping the Lady of the Blessings trapped in a loop of breathless mini-orgasms.
Daenerys, my skilled arcane apprentice, finally allowed her sister a moment to recover and came to meet me.
She took the goblet from my hand, took a long sip of the rich wine, and led me back to the bed, pulling me directly by my erect cock.
First, Daenerys laid on her back on the bed, looking at us with a glint of pure desire.
Immediately after, Viserra approached, grabbed her by the hips, and firmly flipped her over, leaving Daenerys on all fours on the bed for me.
Only then, with Daenerys perfectly positioned and her mouth aligned near my wife’s wet slit, Viserra grabbed my apprentice’s hair to hold her head in place, and Daenerys began using her tongue and mouth to greedily suck up what remained of my seed pooled in Viserra’s pussy.
Using my fingers, I slicked Daenerys’s rear entrance with her own sweat and lust before lining up my cock and pushing mercilessly into her tight hole.
Daenerys tried to let out a whimper of complaint at the sudden tightness, but Viserra’s firm hand gripped her hair, slamming her head against her genitals and keeping her body pinned in place.
I began fucking Daenerys’s ass with a heavy, steady rhythm.
Pressing my muscular chest against her back, I could look over her shoulders at the fascinating sight: while suckling her sister fiercely, Daenerys threw looks of pure rage and provocation at Viserra.
As I increased the pace of my thrusts, Daenerys’s mask of arrogance crumbled.
Viserra and I joined hands and forced her head down hard against my wife’s wet sex.
Viserra, relishing the dominance, ordered in an imperious tone:
— Drink it all, Dany.
Don’t let a single drop fall!
With the tightness of Daenerys’s tight hole milking my shaft and the visual spectacle of my two princesses consuming each other, I reached my limit.
I shot deep like a bull inside Daenerys’s tight ass, filling her completely.
I pulled out slowly and laid back on my back.
Viserra came first, lying down triumphantly on my right side, her head on my chest.
Shortly after, Daenerys laid down on the other side, her face sour and pouting, annoyed by the sweet humiliation she had suffered.
I decided to call it a day right then and closed my eyes to sleep.
The peace, however, was short-lived.
In the middle of the night, I was woken by the indiscreet sensation of two succubuses-in-training handling my cock in the dark, trying to get it hard again.
Annoyed at having my sleep interrupted, I grabbed Viserra roughly by the arms and, without asking permission or offering any gentleness, doubled her body over and shoved hard into her wet slit.
With every deep thrust, I delivered sharp spanks to her soft ass, making the sound of flesh echoing against the black stone walls of the fortress, giving them both the punishment and pleasure they clearly deserved.
The next morning, the room’s magical illumination revealed Viserra standing beside the bed, arms crossed, with a pout that would make a duck jealous.
— Good morning to you too, my beautiful wife — I commented, stretching lazily.
— And what shall we do on this fine day, my husband?
— she asked, her voice dripping with poison so thick it made me laugh out loud.
— Today we must return to the capital — I replied, getting up and putting on my trousers.
— I’ve been away from the Small Council for my honeymoon for too long already.
Daenerys, who was sitting on the edge of the bed braiding her hair, muttered quietly about another one of my strange and incomprehensible expressions.
— Am I supposed to stay here in this tower all by myself?
— No.
You’ll fly back to King’s Landing with me and Daenerys.
— Yes, I see…
— Viserra narrowed her eyes and let out an indignant huff: — But how in the hell am I going to sit in the saddle, you idiot?!
With the spankings you gave me last night, I can’t even touch my ass to a chair!
I let out a loud laugh, shaking my head.
— Well, think twice before waking a sleeping dragon in the dead of night.
Approaching her, I channeled a gentle stream of blood magic through the palm of my hand, applying a restorative warmth to the bruised area.
The pain and swelling vanished in seconds, allowing the journey back atop our winged mounts to proceed without further hitch.
In the months following our arrival at the court of King’s Landing, Viserra — now boasting even more prestige and authority than ever — began to dominate the realm’s social scene.
She completely abandoned the traditional red and black of House Targaryen, preferring to dress exclusively in the flawless silver-white and grey of House Vaelarys.
She adorned herself with the symbols of my lineage with even more pride than I did myself.
Viserra adamantly refused to be called by her father’s surname.
She corrected any lord or servant who made the mistake of addressing her as “Princess Targaryen,” demanding to be called only Lady Viserra Vaelarys or Lady of the Blessings.
Furthermore, she had become utterly fascinated by the name I went by in the shadows of the arcane arts: Annatar, the Lord of Gifts.
Enchanted by the mystical, ancient, and imposing ring of the word, Viserra craved an equally grand title for herself.
Amused by her innate ambition, I granted her the feminine variation Annatari, which in the ancient and forgotten Quendi tongue meant nothing less than “Lady of Gifts” or “Queen of Gifts”.
Viserra adopted the title with an almost religious pride, using it among the ladies and nobles of the court to assert her sovereign status over the fiefdom of the Blessings.
One afternoon, I left the intrigues of the Red Keep behind and headed to the Dragonpit to meet my students.
Waiting for me in the great stone arena were Princess Rhaenys, Viserys, Daemon, young Aegon — saved years ago through the ritual sacrifice of Alyssa — and little Gael.
Watching those kids grow up was a fascinating experience.
There stood the pivots of the continent’s future wars, developing without all the drama and tragedy that the future held, for now just carefree youths learning the art of blood and fire.
The keepers brought out the princes’ dragons.
Among them was Meleys, the formidable red-scaled dragon belonging to Princess Rhaenys, and a gorgeous copper-red dragon belonging to Aegon.
Aegon’s egg had hatched thanks to the density of spiritual energy from Alyssa’s soul transferred into the boy at birth.
Aegon had named his reptile Varrhos.
The lesson began with the arcane fundamentals of communicating with the beasts.
— A rider’s will cannot harbor doubt — I explained, pacing among them while the youths listened attentively.
— Intent must be pure, clear, and absolute.
A dragon does not obey words; it obeys the projection of your mind.
For the practical command drill, I used Dreamfyre.
Since the great blue-and-silver dragoness lacked an active rider at the time and possessed an extremely gentle nature, she served as the perfect model for the youths to practice projecting authority without risking their lives.
With the theoretical part finished, we moved on to practical aerial combat — the same rigorous training I had put their parents through years ago.
The dynamic was simple and brutal: mounted on the terrifying back of The Cannibal, I hunted the young princes through the skies of King’s Landing while they attempted to evade and maneuver.
Meleys, being Rhaenys’s dragon and the fastest in Westeros, managed to escape my swoops with relative ease, slicing through the clouds like a red arrow.
However, The Cannibal didn’t bear his name for nothing; though a heavier beast, his intellect for aerial warfare was unmatched, anticipating escape routes and cutting off the young riders’ angles with intimidating dives.
Giving Aegon some leeway was necessary, as Varrhos was still a young dragon, but the boy demonstrated an impressive bond and admirable steadiness on the reins.
At the end of the session, Aegon dismounted exhausted.
Helping the boy, I guided young Varrhos to his cave in the depths of the Pit.
While tending to the copper dragon’s stall, I noticed Rhaenys was still up high, carving through the sky in a solo flight with Meleys, showing off her skill.
I walked to the exit of the Pit and waited beside my carriage.
This was no ordinary carriage: it had been crafted by me and enchanted with runes of movement and magical cushioning simply because Viserra had demanded a luxury transport worthy of her station.
Moments later, Rhaenys landed Meleys and handed the dragon over to the keepers.
The princess walked over to me and stepped into the carriage without saying a single word.
As I climbed in right behind her to close the door, my face bumped straight into Rhaenys’s firm ass, as she was still standing in the middle of the small cabin.
Without hesitation, Rhaenys came over and straddled my lap.
With nimble hands, she adjusted the angle of my erect shaft and impaled herself slowly, letting out a deep sigh as she began to roll her hips, holding onto my shoulder with one hand.
The princess before me possessed a truly unique beauty.
Her night-black hair, an inheritance from the Baratheons, combined with the deep purple-violet eyes of the Targaryens, gave Rhaenys an exotic, overwhelming charm that I had no interest in resisting.
I slid my hands to her waist, maintaining control of the rhythm as the carriage moved forward.
Outside, the horses — guided directly by my mind through the vehicle’s runes — traversed the city streets from the Dragonpit to the Red Keep at a deliberately slow pace.
— So, little princess…
— I asked, watching the sweat glisten on her neck.
— How are your suitors coming along?
Rhaenys let out a short gasp, keeping up the rhythm of rising and falling on top of me, since she was the one doing virtually all the physical work.
— What’s the matter, Lord Vaelarys?…
Are you jealous?
— she teased, with a smirk on her lips.
— Yes, perhaps — I replied in a deep voice.
— Perhaps I should kill all the young men in the realm to ensure you have no one to marry.
Rhaenys let out a delighted laugh, tilting her head back:
— Oh please, don’t!
Otherwise I’d be forced to marry an old man by my grandfather!
I laughed out loud at the explicit mockery she aimed at Jaehaerys and the political alliances of the court.
— I am going to marry Corlys — she revealed next.
— Oh?
And does he know that yet?
Rhaenys looked at me with a mischievous, dangerous glint in her purple eyes:
— I told him last night…
with a proper handjob in the dark of a hallway.
I laughed again at the princess’s boundless cheek.
I gripped her waist tighter, taking control and dictating the thrusts from below, a rhythm Rhaenys synchronized with masterfully.
As the carriage swayed gently, I reflected on the future.
Originally, in the timeline’s natural flow, her marriage to Corlys Velaryon had been the crucial factor that shattered Rhaenys’s chances of claiming the Iron Throne.
Now, however, seeing the dynamic up close, I knew things would be different.
Corlys might believe he was in charge, but he was easily wrapped around Rhaenys’s finger.
Still, the Sea Snake’s ambition was real and dangerous.
Jaehaerys harbored a veiled dislike for Corlys, and that alliance would weigh heavily on the Old King’s mind.
Unfortunately, I foresaw that this would be the first step toward the end of my long friendship with Jaehaerys.
I picked up the pace until reaching the climax, spilling my seed forcefully deep inside Rhaenys’s wet sex.
The princess held me tight, trembling all over as she received the warm surge.
Gasping for air with her head rested against my neck, she teased:
— These horses are going too fast, my lord…
it’s a hazard on the city streets.
Make them slow down…
I gave a dark smile, adjusting both of our clothes:
— If I am late for another Small Council meeting, I’ll have to listen to Jaehaerys lecture me for two hours about punctuality, responsibility, and all that old-man nonsense.
But come to my quarters tonight; your aunts have a thing or two to teach you.
Rhaenys smiled wickedly, adjusting her riding attire with supreme elegance:
— I will certainly be there, my lord…
if only to teach them a thing or two new.
She wasn’t boasting without reason.
Rhaenys was, without a shadow of a doubt, the finest and most talented “rider” in all of House Targaryen.