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Daemon parried Ser Jaime’s thrust with almost casual ease, riposting towards the man’s shoulder. The Lannister knight deftly twisted out of the way, letting his opponent’s training sword glide harmlessly along his armor, and drove his shoulder into him. There was a time when this would have worked, as for most of the years in which Ser Jaime trained the young prince, he’d been taller, heavier, and stronger than him. The years had been very kind to Daemon Targaryen, though, and he grinned as he grappled with the older man, using his momentum against him and driving him onto his back. He pressed the blunt edge of his blade under his golden helmet, and Jaime laughed.
“I yield, my prince,” he said, and Daemon nodded, jumping to his feet and helping his old mentor up. “You’ve improved.
“You still beat me more than half the time,” the prince replied.
“I’ve been knocking men on their asses for longer than you’ve been alive,” Ser Jaime replied. “It will be some time yet before you end up the victor in most of our sparring sessions, but I’m increasingly convinced that you will someday. Let’s go again.”
“He’s good,” Ser Barristan commented, watching from a nearby balcony that overlooked the training yard of the Red Keep as he guarded Queen Lyanna.
“He is,” the brunette replied proudly.
Her son was her pride and joy, and it thrilled her to see what a man he was becoming. Tall and lean, he was, if what she could see through his tunics was any indication, increasingly well-muscled, and between that and his handsome face, a blend of Stark and Targaryen looks that she had thought was utterly perfect since she first laid eyes on it all those years ago, it was little wonder that he was drawing more and more glances from noblewomen who came to visit the keep. He had come of age a couple moons ago, and she knew that she and Rhaegar were soon going to have to have a conversation with him about marriage, something she was both looking forward to and dreading.
“I think he’ll make a fine replacement for Ser Gerold,” Ser Barristan said smiling, and Lyanna blinked slowly in confusion, the old knight’s words taking a moment to register.
“What?” she asked, whipping her head around and glaring at him.
Ser Barristan’s eyes went wide at her sudden anger, and he looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, my queen, but I thought you had already heard.”
“Already heard what?” Lyanna demanded.
“You know that Ser Gerold doesn’t have much time left,” Ser Barristan replied, and she nodded, well aware of the fact that the oldest member of the Kingsguard was on his deathbed, his responsibilities and title of Lord Commander having already been given to Ser Arthur. “Prince Daemon has been making...inquiries with a few of us about taking his place when the time comes.”
“My son wants to join the Kingsguard?” Lyanna asked, aghast, and the knight looked away awkwardly.
“I’m sorry, my queen,” Ser Barristan said. “I knew he hadn’t yet broached the subject with His Grace, but I really had thought that he’d have at least mentioned it to you.”
“He hadn’t,” Lyanna replied with gritted teeth, staring down at her son as he continued to spar with Ser Jaime. “I do thank you for telling me, though.”
Without another word she went back inside, the news she’d just received making it less enjoyable to watch her son spar than she generally thought. Her mind raced, relief at the thought that her son was never going to move away and leave her alone warring with fear that he was going to throw his life away and deny himself so many of the joys of it and guilt for feeling anything but that.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” she thought to herself. She’d thought that Daemon told her everything, as they’d always been close, and the idea of making as big a decision as this without even consulting her was nearly as unsettling as the idea itself.
“How long has he been making these inquiries for?” Lyanna asked as she led her guard for the day towards the kitchens.
“Only the last moon, my queen,” Ser Barristan replied. “Given how...deeply interested he seems, though, I would wager that that isn’t how long he’s been thinking about it.”
“It was tact, then, that kept his silence,” she thought to herself, scowling as she slipped into the kitchens.
“Queen Lyanna,” Alan, one of the most senior cooks, said in surprise. “We were just about to send someone to ask what you wanted this morn.”
“I smell fresh bread,” Lyanna replied, and he nodded, snapping at one of the other servants, who quickly brought over a lovely-looking, crusty loaf.
“It’s still quite warm, my queen,” the young man said, and she nodded.
“Have it, some butter, a bit of cheese, and a jug of beer sent to my chambers,” she said, grabbing a nearby tart that smelled of some sort of berry.
“Yes, my queen,” Alan nodded, and she left, practically marching to her chambers while eating the tart.
The kitchens had been on the way to Maegor’s Holdfast, and she generally preferred to make inquiries in person rather than just send servants if she could. It cut down on time and forced her to walk more, something that she knew was good for her. She saw Ser Arthur guarding the door to Rhaegar’s chambers and didn’t even bother checking to see if her husband had a moment for her.
“Talking to him about this would be a waste of time,” she thought to herself bitterly. “It’s not like he pays much attention to me or our son.”
“Send someone to inform Daemon that I want to see him as quickly as possible,” Lyanna commanded, and Ser Barristan nodded, taking his position outside her door as she closed it. “Damn it all.”
She scowled as she sat down in her favorite chair and buried her head in her hands.
“Where did it all go so wrong?” she thought to herself. “Oh, right, when I decided it would be a good idea to run off with a married man.”
She shook her head at that and propped an elbow on the table so she could lean against her hand. There was a time when she’d seen the idea of being wed to Robert Baratheon as a fate worse than death itself. She still believed that she would have been miserable with the dark-haired man, forced to put up with his unceasing whoremongering and always wondering which whore’s bed he was in at a given moment. There were moments, though, when she was at her most lonely and miserable, when she couldn’t help but hear a little voice in the back of her head saying ‘at least he’d have wanted me, though.’
Being swept up in Rhaegar’s desire for her had been very easy back then. She was six and ten, desperate to get out of a betrothal she truly didn’t want, and he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Her terror at being caught in her armor had given way at once to infatuation at the sight of him, and the conversation they had under the shade of the tree he’d found her by had only inflamed her desire further.
“Elia can’t have any more children,” he told her. “I care for my wife deeply, and I will not subject her to something that may likely kill her.”
“Of course,” she replied, hoping against hope that he was going where she thought he was with that. “I’ve read an account of the grief and guilt Viserys I felt after Queen Aemma died and…”
“You’ve read Grand Maester Runciter’s records?” Rhaegar asked, surprised, and she smiled, blushing shyly.
“To be honest, my prince, I’ve always been deeply fascinated by your family and its history,” Lyanna replied. “I’ve read The Conquest of Dorne more times than I could say.”
“An unusual subject for a woman to find so interesting,” Rhaegar commented, and she grinned.
Gesturing to the armor she was wearing, Lyanna said, “I’m a rather unusual woman.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Rhaegar smiled, looking and sounding smitten.
“My queen, the food and drink you requested are here,” Ser Barristan announced, breaking her out of her reverie, and she sighed.
“Have them bring it all in,” Lyanna called out, and the door opened a moment later for two servants to come in.
One of them set a tray containing the bread, cheese, and butter she’d demanded in front of her, while the other poured her a cup of ale, which she accepted happily. As they left, she tore a sizable chunk out of the loaf and buttered it generously before slicing off a piece of the firm cheese they’d brought her. Her mouth watered at the sight and smell of the pale loaf, and she dug into it eagerly. Freshly baked bread with butter was her most simple indulgence, something she’d loved since she was a girl, and it was her go-to food when she was feeling unhappy. The bakers at the Red Keep were even better than the ones at Winterfell, and she’d have enjoyed a loaf a day if the maesters hadn’t made it clear that a more varied diet was better for her.
“Prince Daemon, my queen,” Ser Barristan announced, letting him in, and Lyanna stood up and smiled at him.
“Is everything alright, Mother?” Daemon asked, eyeing what she was eating before looking into her eyes. “The servant you sent to fetch me sounded like they thought this was important, so I came straight from the training yard. If you’d prefer, I could go wash up a little and return when I’ve finished.
“There’s no need,” Lyanna said. “Join me; I’m sure you built up an appetite sparring with Ser Jaime.”
“You saw that?” Daemon asked, washing his hands in the nearby basin before sitting down and tearing a hunk of bread off.
“I did,” Lyanna replied, smiling at him. “You’ve become quite the swordsman. Keep progressing like this and you’ll run out of viable sparring partners soon.”
“I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Daemon chuckled, buttering his bread. “Are you certain that you’re feeling alright? The last time I came in here to find you eating nothing but buttered bread and cheese, you had just found out that Uncle Ned had taken ill.”
“I am rather transparent, aren’t I?” Lyanna chuckled, recalling how worried Catelyn had been then before her brother thankfully recovered. “I don’t know, I think I just saw you out in the yard earlier, and it reminded me that you’ve become a man. Someday soon, you’re going to take a woman to wife, move out to some holdfast, and I’ll see you less often.”
“Mother, you...you don’t need to worry about that,” Daemon replied, and she kept her face blank, simply cocking an eyebrow in feigned confusion.
“What do you mean?” Lyanna asked.
“I...I’ve been thinking,” Daemon replied. “What if I didn’t wed anyone?”
“Daemon…” Lyanna went to say, and he cut her off.
“No, think about it,” Daemon replied. “Ser Gerold is deeply unwell, and, in truth, we only have six kingsguards right now. I know I’m good enough to join the order, and that way…”
“I knew it!” Lyanna hissed, and his eyes went wide.
“You...you led me right into that,” Daemon muttered.
“Daemon, you can’t join the Kingsguard,” Lyanna said. “You’d be throwing away so much…”
“So much what?” Daemon argued, his purple eyes flashing with something that she couldn’t place.
“I deeply appreciate what the white cloaks do for us, and I understand what they give up to do so,” Lyanna said. “None of them will ever wed or have children they can acknowledge or experience any of the joys that come with having families of their own.”
“And they all knew that when they took the vow,” Daemon replied. “Why should I be unable to make the same choice?”
“Because they’re not my sons,” Lyanna hissed. “I don’t want that life for you, Daemon. I love you, and I want you to experience every happiness. You’re a Targaryen prince and…”
“One who half the lords don’t think should have that name,” Daemon scoffed, and her eyes narrowed.
“Has even a single one of those lords ever spoken a word of such to you?” she asked.
“No, but I know damn well what they say behind our backs,” Daemon muttered.
“Fuck them,” Lyanna hissed. When he looked like he was about to object, she said, “No, listen to me. Whatever they might think, you are a prince of the blood, one named Targaryen by the king, and you could have any woman in the realm you want.”
His face grew pinched at that and he looked down at the buttered bread in his hand, stuffing the rest of it into his mouth before standing up and walking over to where the other cups were. As he swallowed, he poured himself a cup of ale and washed it down before sitting back in his seat.
“And what if I said I didn’t want a woman?” he asked, and she scoffed.
“I caught you staring at Anna’s tits far too many times when you were starting to become a man to think that you aren’t interested in women at all,” Lyanna replied, and he blushed, looking away. Anna was a serving girl at the keep whom the gods had blessed abundantly in certain respects, and Lyanna had thought it funny how many times she saw Daemon obviously working to appear like he wasn’t staring at her admittedly impressive breasts back when he was two and ten.
“Mother,” he complained, and she chuckled.
“Daemon, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Lyanna replied. “You’re a good and honorable young man, and I am proud of you, but...I wouldn’t want you to take your vows only to end up regretting them later, especially when, if I’m not mistaken, you wouldn’t really know what you were giving up.”
“I don’t think I’d be willing to have this conversation with you if I polished off this entire jug,” Daemon muttered, standing up.
“Wait!” Lyanna exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Just...I just want you to promise me that before you bring this up with your father, you’ll take some time to think about it more and…”
“I have thought about it,” Daemon sighed, turning around to face her. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”
“Why, though?” Lyanna breathed, her eyes filling with tears. “You could have anyone you want, start a family, have children. I’ve never been happier in my life than I was when I stared down at your smiling little face for the first time all those years ago. It would break my heart to know that you’d never know such a joy.”
Daemon looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
“Are you truly not going to support me in this at all?” he asked, and she whimpered, looking away.
“You’re my only child,” Lyanna whispered. “Your siblings and Daenerys, I’ve treated them as my own all these years, especially after Elia died, but...you’re mine, and the idea of my only son condemning himself to a life of solitude, it…”
“There are worse things a man can do with his life than dedicate it to a good cause,” Daemon said, and she sighed.
“You’ve never had a woman, have you?” Lyanna asked, not looking up at him.
“I don’t see why that’s relevant,” Daemon huffed, blushing as he looked away.
“You want to know what it would take for me to support you in this?” Lyanna asked. “That’s it.”
“What?” Daemon asked, looking at her in shock.
“There are, as I understand it, brothels in this city that are quite well known for their discretion,” Lyanna replied. “If you’re uncertain about where to find them, I’m sure you could ask Tyrion and…”
“I’m sorry, you’re actually asking me to go...bed a whore?” Daemon asked. “The only reason I exist is because you hated your betrothed’s whoring ways so much that…”
“There’s a difference between exploring what one can experience with a woman by making use of a whore and sticking yourself in every woman you make eye contact with,” Lyanna muttered, sitting back down. “If you truly decide that this is what you want, I’ll have to accept that, but until you know what you’d be giving up…”
“I know what I want, Mother,” Daemon sighed. “What I can have, anyway.”
“What does that…” Lyanna went to ask, but he opened the door to her chambers and left before she could finish, leaving her confused. “What have I missed?”
*****
“What am I missing?” Lyanna thought to herself later on as she sat next to Rhaegar at the feast.
“...and by the sixth moon of the siege, I knew for sure that we were going to succeed,” Mace Tyrell babbled on, his face already pink from the wine he’d drunk. “We had clearly broken their spirits.”
“You wasted the largest army the loyalists had holding six men and a dog in a keep that wasn’t even strategically necessary to take, you bloody idiot,” Lyanna thought to herself, smiling slightly when she saw her husband start grinding his teeth.
He hated being reminded of the rebellion, as did she, and the Lord of Highgarden would have known better generally, but he was inordinately proud of how he besieged Storm’s End and had had more to drink than was wise. Had he brought his mother with him, she’d have probably told him off already, but he hadn’t, so it fell to Rhaegar and Jon to manage him. Connington looked like he was also at his wit’s end with the fat lord, but snapping at one of your most important nobles was generally a bad idea.
“I heard that your second son had wed,” the king said, changing the subject, and Mace puffed up, smiling.
“Ah yes, to Leonette Fossoway,” he replied. “Lovely girl she is. Garlan’s most happy. Willas should be…”
Lyanna tuned him out, something she’d been doing for most of the evening, and looked over at Daemon, noting how stiffly he was sitting. She’d have normally attributed that to the mentions of the rebellion, a subject that he wasn’t any more fond of than she and Rhaegar were, but from how he looked, she doubted he’d been paying any attention to what Mace Tyrell was saying.
“Lyanna?” Daenerys asked, and the queen smiled over at her. “Did Daemon tell you about our plans?”
“What plans?” Lyanna asked.
“We’re sailing to Dragonstone,” Aegon replied. “I’ve not been to the island in weeks, and I miss it.”
“I hadn’t heard,” Lyanna replied.
“We’ve been trying to convince this one to come with us,” Rhaenys muttered, glaring at Daemon, who rolled his eyes.
“I want to focus on my training,” he replied. “The last time you three went to Dragonstone, you stayed for a moon.”
“The gods forbid we ever enjoy ourselves,” Aegon drawled.
“There’s nothing wrong with you enjoying yourselves,” Daemon sighed. “I just don’t want to spend weeks away from the training yard here.”
“There’s more to life than practicing your swordsmanship,” Daenerys sighed, looking up at him. “I’d appreciate if you came with us.”
“As would Egg and I,” Rhaenys said, and Daemon’s jaw tightened, something flashing across his eyes for so scant a moment that Lyanna almost missed it entirely before he schooled his features again.
“Sorry, but I can’t,” he replied.
“Pain,” Lyanna thought to herself. “That was genuine pain and longing, but what would...oh, no.”
If her son had feelings for Daenerys or Rhaenys, he’d have hidden them a lot better than he used to hide his appreciation for that servant girl’s tits, but there was good reason for that. Aegon had been betrothed to both his sister and his aunt since the latter was born. The three heads of the dragon that Rhaegar had been so obsessed with since he was young, were apparently bound to save everyone from some great darkness, something that Lyanna was becoming increasingly convinced wasn’t even true. It had been the real reason why her husband had taken her as his second wife, throwing the kingdoms into turmoil, and the fact that she ended up ultimately giving birth to a son while Queen Rhaella gave him the third head of the dragon he needed was not lost on him.
“I need to speak with him about it,” she thought to herself, schooling her features and turning back to their guest of honor.
If you needed someone to run a military campaign for you, Mace Tyrell wouldn’t be any sane person’s first choice, but if you needed a droning distraction that wouldn’t be silent for more than a moment for the rest of the night, he was absolutely your man.
*****
“I can do this,” Daemon said to himself hours later as he sat at the edge of his bed and sharpened his blade. “I’m good enough; Father won’t stand in my way or likely care, and it would give me purpose. I could do something meaningful with my life, help protect my family, and…”
And watch Aegon have everything he wanted in life went unsaid. Even in the confines of his own mind, he was reluctant to admit that, to admit how it made his heart clench every time he saw his brother with Rhaenys and Daenerys. He loved his brother and wouldn’t act against him in anything, and the gods knew he didn’t want the throne, but he did covet it.
“There was never any hope for it, with either of them,” he thought to himself, shaking his head and reaching for the cup of wine at his side, downing the rest of it before turning back to his sword.
A thousand memories flitted through his mind as he continued the repetitive task of honing his sword. Dances, smiles, affectionate touches, and kind words. He’d adored the both of them since he was a boy, and the knowledge that he never had a hope of wedding either one, despite being a Targaryen prince, was enough to make him despair, but their father had been very clear from the start that Aegon had to wed both of them, and that was how it would go.
“Daemon,” Lyanna whispered, and he jumped to his feet, instinctively wielding his blade before realizing whose voice he’d just heard. “Are you decent?”
“Am I...where even are you?” Daemon asked, and she poked her head through the hidden door in the far wall. “You know about that?”
“You think I’d let my boy sleep in a room without checking it for hidden passages?” Lyanna asked.
She walked inside and cocked an eyebrow when she saw what he’d been doing.
“I was thinking,” Daemon replied, and she chuckled.
“You’re so much like Ned sometimes,” Lyanna replied.
“What was so important you felt the need to come here in the middle of the night?” Daemon replied, sheathing his sword.
“I’m a terrible mother,” Lyanna sighed, and he looked at her in confusion.
“You’re a wonderful mother,” Daemon replied.
“Not if I could miss something as big as what I finally saw tonight,” Lyanna replied, and he froze. “Dany and Rhaenys are the reason you’re not willing to wed, aren’t they?”
“M...mother?” Daemon stuttered. “That...I…”
“That’s why you looked so strangely earlier when I said you could have any woman you wanted, isn’t it?” Lyanna asked, and his face fell.
“There’s no point in discussing it,” Daemon replied.
“Daemon…” Lyanna went to say.
“No,” Daemon snapped before looking guilty. “Father will never change his mind about those three; they’re going to wed in a few moons, and that’s just...that’s just it. This isn’t something I can fight or argue my way out of; it simply is.”
“I’m sorry, Daemon,” Lyanna sighed, pulling him in for a hug.
He stood stiffly for a moment and then wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair and letting out a shaky breath. The two of them stayed like that for a while, and she smiled despite everything. This was the longest they’d hugged since he was a boy, and she enjoyed feeling so close to him again. As he pulled back, he sat on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands, and she sat next to him, rubbing his back.
“How long?” she whispered, and he let out a humorless laugh.
“Forever,” Daemon sighed. “For at least as long as I’ve...felt such things. Aegon was always busy with his studies or with Father when we were children, and so the three of us would spend time together. I think we found every hidden passageway in this keep back then.”
“You three used to drive us all mad with it, popping in and out wherever,” Lyanna chuckled.
“When I started noticing women, there were those I noticed more, as you brought up earlier, but when it came to girls I actually...wanted, Rhaenys and Daenerys were really the only ones I ever really thought of,” Daemon sighed. “If Father told me that I was to wed either one, I’d be happier than I can say, but…”
“Why did you never tell me?” Lyanna asked.
“Because he’ll never change his mind,” Daemon muttered. “The septons despise the idea of another plural marriage, the lords all hate the fact that none of them have any hope of making one of their daughters queen, and even the three of them don’t seem terribly keen on the idea, but the prophecy says the dragon must have three heads, and so it will be.”
“That fucking prophecy,” Lyanna muttered, and he looked at her in surprise. “What? Did you not think I’d hate the thing that had dictated the entire course of my life since I was a girl?”
“It led you here, though,” Daemon argued. “It led to me.”
“And that is the one thing that I truly thank it for,” Lyanna smiled, taking one of his hands in hers. “You’re the best thing that’s come out of my marriage, Daemon, the one shining jewel in my life.”
“You’re not...happy, are you?” Daemon asked, and she sighed.
“I’m happy enough,” Lyanna replied. “I am lonely, though. Your father’s never forgiven himself for how much damage running off with me caused, and when he learned that not only were you a boy rather than the Visenya he’d foreseen, but that his mother had had a daughter during all the chaos…”
“He came to regret it all,” Daemon sighed, and her eyes flashed.
“Not you,” Lyanna said firmly, “never you.”
“We’re not exactly close,” Daemon muttered, and she sighed.
“Your father isn’t close to all that many people these days,” Lyanna replied. “He buries himself in what administrative work Jon doesn’t handle for him and preparing for the great calamity to come.”
“The fucking prophecy,” Daemon said. “I’m sorry, Mum. I knew you two weren’t all that affectionate in public, but I thought…”
“We’re friendly,” Lyanna sighed, “but we are mostly friends at this point.”
“To be honest, that seems to be the way things are between Aegon, Rhaenys, and Daenerys,” Daemon said. “They seem more like friends than betrothed, or, you know, siblings.”
“In the traditional sense,” Lyanna laughed, and he joined in despite his mood.
“I’m still surprised, is all,” Daemon replied, and she rolled her eyes.
“There’s a reason you don’t have any younger siblings,” Lyanna replied, and his eyes went wide as saucers.
“Wait, not at all?” he blurted out before he could stop himself and promptly went beet red. “Forget I asked that.”
“Do you not think that joining the Kingsguard would make things worse for you?” Lyanna asked, changing the subject. “If you wed the heiress of a wealthy holdfast, yes, you’d have to live with the fact that Rhaenys and Daenerys wed Aegon, but you wouldn’t see them every day. You’d also get a wife and a family of your own.”
“Getting to see them every day would be one of the benefits,” Daemon sighed. “Yes, they’ll never be mine, and yes, there will be a painful aspect to staying, but I adore them. Seeing either one smile can make my whole day brighten, I’d miss them terribly if I left, and getting to help keep them safe would be...it would have to be enough.”
“You always preferred Daeron I to Aemon the Dragonknight as a boy,” Lyanna sighed, and he chuckled.
“That’s because you read The Conquest of Dorne to me at least a dozen times when I was a boy,” Daemon chuckled.
“You do understand that if you went through with this, you’d end up like Aemon in every way, right?” Lyanna asked, and he sighed.
“I see a lot of myself in him,” Daemon replied. “I just wish I had Dark Sister.”
“No, you wish you had your sister and your aunt,” Lyanna thought to herself, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. “I still say you should at least experience it once before you give it up forever.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Daemon muttered. “Isn’t it better to not miss something? If I never bed a woman, I’ll never know what I gave up.”
“You won’t be making a true choice, though,” Lyanna replied. “Who know? You might find if you take a woman to bed, you’ll realize that you could move on and love someone else. Arianne Martell’s unwed; perhaps you could be like Daeron and ‘conquer Dorne.’”
“That was terrible,” Daemon chuckled. “I just don’t see the appeal of fucking whores, I guess. My luck, I’d end up with the pox.”
“The expensive ones aren’t a risk for that, or so I’ve heard,” Lyanna replied. “Forget whores then and find a nice serving girl. You’re a tall, handsome prince, Daemon, and to let you in on a little secret about women: we’re all attracted to tall, handsome princes.”
“You were,” Daemon chuckled, and she sighed.
“How do you think I know?” Lyanna muttered, watching him stand up.
“At this point, I’d be reluctant to leave you to wed some woman,” Daemon said, looking down at her. “You’re really that lonely in your marriage?”
“I’m not that lonely,” Lyanna replied. “I have my ladies-in-waiting and my favorite guards, and Aegon, Rhaenys, and Daenerys have treated me like a second mother for years, especially since…”
“Did you two get on that well?” Daemon asked. “I know things seem pleasant, but…”
“We did,” Lyanna replied. “She resented me at first, but I think Elia eventually saw me as a sort of sister-wife, someone to take the pressure off of her, and when things between Rhaegar and I went cold, we became friends. I miss her.”
“I have some memories of her before she got sick, but not many,” Daemon said.
“She was sweeter and kinder to me than I deserved,” Lyanna sighed.
“I wish I could help you with Father,” Daemon said, and she chuckled.
“If you tried that might end up being the most awkward conversation ever had by two people in all of history,” Lyanna laughed. “You and he both have a habit of stammering, blushing, and looking away when you feel uncomfortable, which you both absolutely would. It’s sweet of you to say, but I don’t need my son to try to talk his father into acting like my husband again. I’ve gotten old since we were last intimate, and at this point, I…”
“You’re not old,” Daemon said, interrupting her, and she looked up at him in surprise. “You don’t look a day over five and twenty.”
“You, my dear, are very kind,” Lyanna replied, trying not to think of why his compliment made her heart flutter.
“I’m just telling the truth,” Daemon replied, looking down at the silver gown she was wearing and trying not to notice the way it clung around her hips or the generous bit of cleavage it showed. As he looked back at her face, he saw how it complimented her eyes and said, “You’re beautiful, Mother. To be honest, I always thought that you didn’t have any other children because my birth was so difficult and I accidentally damaged something on the way out. I never imagined it was because Father was a fool.”
“Daemon,” Lyanna breathed, feeling heat pool in her core at his words.
Everyone said he looked more like her than Rhaegar, or even more like her brother, Ned, but she’d never seen it. He had her coloring, yes, and he had a long face as Starks generally did, but his strong cheekbones, pouty lips, and square jaw were all from his father, and that wasn’t even counting his eyes, which were so much Rhaegar’s that they made her shiver.
“You deserve to be happy,” Daemon said, and she sighed.
“Everything I said to you earlier today about why I didn’t want you to join the Kingsguard was true, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t also been hurt by the idea that I’d never have grandchildren,” Lyanna admitted. “You being happy would make me happy, Daemon, and I do think that you’d manage to find happiness with some other woman if you tried. It is actually possible to find a woman attractive even if you aren’t related to them.”
Daemon burst out laughing at that, and she laughed too, happy to distract herself from the sudden burst of attraction she’d felt as his eyes bored into hers just then.
“How strange does that seem from an outside perspective?” he asked.
“The incest?” Lyanna asked. “I’ll be honest, it’s weird, but you spend enough time among the Targaryens, reading Targaryen history and hearing them speak about it, and it all just seems normal after a time. Plenty of non-Targaryen women have had to see their children wed each other and have children of their own, so it’s not like it’s just in the blood.”
“I guess what does and doesn’t seem normal is largely up to what you live around,” Daemon shrugged, and she nodded.
“Promise me you’ll at least think about it, please,” Lyanna whispered, and he sighed.
“I’ll consider it,” Daemon replied. “I’ve asked a few of the knights about the idea, but I haven’t brought it up to Father or the others yet. How did you find out anyway?”
“I overheard you talking to Ser Barristan a little while ago,” Lyanna lied, not wanting to tell him that the older knight had told her. “You weren’t speaking clearly, and it took me a little while to figure out what it meant, but even then I wasn’t certain until you confirmed it.”
“Maybe you should take Varys’ role on the council,” Daemon quipped, and she snorted.
“No, thank you,” Lyanna replied, smiling up at him. Cupping his cheek and feeling the stubble there, she said, “You’re too handsome to spend your life in sexless servitude.”
“Well, you’re too beautiful to do the same,” Daemon replied, cupping her cheek, and they both froze when they felt a spark pass between them.
“You’re too kind,” Lyanna breathed, her eyes locked on his as her heart raced in her chest.
“Has your marriage really been stale for so long that you think any compliment about your beauty is mere kindness or flattery?” Daemon asked, brushing his rough thumb over her cheekbone as he stared into her eyes.
“Daemon,” Lyanna whimpered, feeling heat pool between her legs again. “This is…”
“You said you didn’t want me to make this decision without really knowing what I’d be giving up,” Daemon replied, the wine he’d drunk giving him boldness he’d have never known without it.
“That’s...true,” Lyanna panted, years of celibacy catching up to her as she felt like her body was starting to smolder; she was so hot.
This would be wrong, even by Targaryen standards, yet between how long it had been since she’d known a man’s touch, how much Daemon reminded her of his father when he was young, and the way he was looking at her, she found herself growing uncomfortably wet. They stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like eternity, each daring the other to do what they were both thinking, and eventually, Daemon moved first, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.
His inexperience shone through, but Lyanna didn’t care in the slightest bit, feeling like dragonfire was coursing through her at even this simplest touch, and she quickly deepened the kiss. She’d been in a sexless marriage for so long that she had long since suppressed her needs, lending her focus to pretty much anything that would distract her. After a few years of it, she stopped even needing to, life without sex having become completely normal to her. It turned out though, that burying your desires deep inside you didn’t erase them completely, though, and if anything, it just let them intensify. From the first kiss, she felt years of pent-up lust come boiling up to the surface, and before she even realized what she was doing, she’d walked him back to the bed, pushed him back, and climbed on top.
“Oh gods!” Daemon groaned, feeling her grind against his rapidly hardening length.
He knew this was a bad idea for practically every reason possible. Fucking the king’s wife was a bad idea in any world, and fucking your mother was crossing a line that even the ancient dragonlords of old Valyria never crossed, but she wanted him, he wanted her, and he was so desperately pent up that he was just lusty enough to set aside how much of a terrible idea it was.
“Is fucking your mother all that much wronger than fucking your sister or your aunt?” he thought to himself to justify it. “Because that’s something I’ve wanted to do since the moment I learned what fucking was.”
“Fucking hells, I feel like I’m on fire,” Lyanna moaned, grinding her overheated cunt on his throbbing length and shivering when she realized just how large the lump she was feeling under her was.
She kissed him again, her tongue brushing against his, and he returned the gesture, proving to be just as quick a learner in the bedroom as he was in the training yard. They kissed passionately and hungrily, and she moaned into his mouth when she felt his hands slide down along her back and cup her arse.
“I want to see you,” Lyanna breathed, and he sat up, letting her fingers make short work of his doublet.
The shirt under it was thin, and she felt her insides quiver as she ran her hands over his muscles through it. His body was lean and hard, built through years of training, and she felt her cunt drool as she took in the sight of his broad shoulders and strong arms. Rhaegar had been like this as a young man, but if anything, Daemon had already exceeded his physique from back then, and as she continued to grind herself on him, she came to wonder if he didn’t exceed his father in other ways too.
“Stand up,” Lyanna breathed as she moved off of him, and he did so without a word.
His eyes were nearly black with lust, and his lips were swollen from her kisses as he stood up.
“Mo…” he went to say, and she pressed a finger against his lips.
“When we’re like this, I’m Lyanna,” Lyanna said, “or Lya, if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“Lya,” Daemon said, his voice deep and rumbling, and she swore she felt the word in her cunt.
She pulled his shirt off, exposing his every muscle to her feasting gaze, and then pulled off his belt, anticipation building more and more inside her as she tugged it loose, and when his breeches fell and his cock popped out, standing strong and throbbing hard in the air, she gasped.
“Mo...Lya?” he asked, looking at her in confusion as she just stared at his cock in shock.
“H...how?” Lyanna asked. “How is it this big?”
“Well, I have grown a little since you last saw it,” Daemon drawled, and she looked up at him.
“Daemon, this is fucking huge,” Lyanna breathed as she wrapped her hand around it, making him gasp.
“Oh sweet gods!” Daemon groaned, and she giggled.
“Fuck me, my fingers don’t even touch,” Lyanna said. “You’re going to stretch me out so much.”
“Not as much as he did on the way out, but I probably shouldn’t think about that right now,” she thought to herself.
“That feels so fucking good, oh gods,” Daemon groaned. “Lya, I’m…”
“Wait a second,” Lyanna replied, letting his cock go and sinking to her knees. “I absolutely cannot get a man’s seed on this gown.”
“Well, you could take it...oh gods!” Daemon groaned when she wrapped her lips around his bulbous head.
Nothing in his entire life had felt even close to this good, and he couldn’t have held back if he’d tried. With a groan of her name, he let go, coming hard and filling her mouth with his seed. She hadn’t done this in a very, very long time, but she remembered the basic mechanics, and while she wasn’t prepared for the sheer volume of seed that filled her mouth, she managed to swallow it all, catching the lone drop that escaped her lips with her hand as she held it under her chin. With that done, she pushed down further, taking a few more inches of his cock inside her mouth and feeling her cunt throb as she enjoyed the weight of it on her tongue, before pulling back and letting it slip from her lips with an audible pop.
“Oh fuck...oh fuck,” Daemon groaned, staggering back and sitting down on the bed as his heart raced in his chest.
Lyanna giggled and watched as he finished undressing. He stood up, still breathing a little heavily, and stared down at her in lust, his nude form bared to her completely. Her eyes roamed over his body, taking in every sculpted inch, and she licked her lips when she came across a certain several inches, none of which seemed to be wilting at all.
“You’re still so hard,” she breathed, and he grinned.
“With such a vision before me, how could I not be?” Daemon asked. “You’re overdressed, Lya.”
“So I am,” Lyanna replied, shuddering as he stepped close, and gasping when he cupped one of her breasts through her gown. “You’ve never helped a woman out of her clothes before, so this will take some instruction.”
“I always have been a quick learner,” Daemon rumbled, making her grin.
With her help, he managed to undress her quickly enough, and as the grey linen of her gown pooled at her feet, she couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. She hadn’t been naked in front of anyone other than her ladies-in-waiting in years and knew that the years had thickened her a little. Her waist was relatively narrow, but not as narrow as it had been in her youth, and her hips, thighs, and especially her arse were all fleshier than they’d once been.
“Gorgeous,” Daemon rumbled, his hands going to her hips. As he sank his fingers into her, his eyes met hers again, and he added, “Utterly gorgeous.”
“Really?” Lyanna asked, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sheer earnestness in his voice.
She unbound her breasts, letting them spill across her chest, still firm enough that her hard, pink nipples pointed straight at Daemon, who groaned and cupped them with his large hands, rough from years of training. She gasped and mewled, his simple touch the greatest thing she’d felt in ages, and he grinned, kneading the soft, supple mounds.
“My nipples,” Lyanna gasped, and she whimpered when he started circling them with his thumbs.
He kissed her again, still kneading her breasts, and she reached for her small clothes, eager to discard the last bit of clothing she was wearing. Walking him back towards the bed, she climbed into his lap when he sat back down and started grinding her dripping wet cunt against his length. He groaned into her mouth, the unfamiliar pleasure driving him wild, and he basked in the heat coming from her, scarcely able to fathom how good it was going to feel to be buried inside her. Reaching around, he cupped and kneaded the meaty cheeks of her arse, making her moan, and started grinding up against her dripping slit.
“You’re so much bigger than I imagined,” Lyanna whimpered. “Even with me being as wet as I am, I don’t think you’ll fit easily, but I swear I’ll manage it.”
Daemon felt a spark of pride at that, the unspoken assertion that he was larger than his father pleasing him on some deep level he didn’t want to put too much focus on.
“Could I make you wetter?” he asked, and she giggled.
“Honey, you’re making me soaked just looking at me like that,” Lyanna breathed. “I haven’t felt desired like this in so long.”
She reached down and grabbed his cock, lifting it up so she could nestle it between her dripping folds. He gasped and groaned at the wet heat that pressed against his sensitive head, the pleasure already more than he ever imagined. Lyanna laughed softly at the look on his face, delighting in how utterly responsive he was. She loved knowing that she was the one who had made him feel this way, that she was the one who introduced him to pleasure.
“By the time I’m done with him, he won’t even consider joining the Kingsguard,” she thought to herself, already planning his wedding to whichever noblegirl he decided he wanted, when a darker, more selfish thought occurred to her. “Of course, if he did, we could keep doing this.”
It would be a terrible idea, of course, one that she couldn’t let herself even consider, but it was already tempting, and she hadn’t even felt him inside her yet. She wanted grandchildren, though, something that she would not get from this affair, so as much as she was sure that she was going to love this, she knew that she’d continue to try to convince him to wed afterward. Putting those thoughts out of her head, she pushed down, feeling her underused insides strain as his bulbous head pushed against them, and though it took more effort than she’d expected, he eventually popped inside, making them both moan.
“Oh gods,” Daemon groaned as Lyanna dug her nails into his shoulders, needing to hold onto something as her legs quivered.
“You’re so fucking thick,” she moaned, giggling as she wondered whether or not he’d stretched her this wide when he popped out of her. She knew that was an absurd thing to even question, and it was precisely the absurdity that made her laugh.
“What is it?” Daemon asked, his fingers digging into her hips as he got used to the feeling of being buried inside her tight, wet heat.
“Just wondering how long I’ve really wanted this,” Lyanna purred, raking her nails over his scalp as she smiled down at him. “How long have I seen how handsome you are and forced myself not to think about it?”
“I think our family has rubbed off on you,” Daemon quipped, and she giggled, pushing down and moaning when another inch of his thick cock slipped inside her. “I am so glad I already came.”
Lyanna giggled and kissed him. “That was the point, love; that and I really wanted to see the look on your face when you came in my mouth.”
“I’ll have to return the favor later,” Daemon moaned, and she cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Oh?” she asked.
“I’m sure my tongue would feel as good on your cunt as yours did against my cock,” Daemon reasoned, and she grinned.
“Another time,” Lyanna purred, wiggling her hips and taking more of him inside her.
He didn’t comment on that, but his mind raced at the idea that this might not be a one-time thing. He knew that they’d have to be careful in everyway, possible, especially to make sure that he didn’t put a child in her, but as she continued to sink down onto his cock, enveloping him in the hot, wet, tight heaven of her cunt, he knew that he’d want this for the rest of his life.
“I...gods, you feel so good...realize what you meant now about not knowing what I’d be giving up,” Daemon moaned, and she smiled.
“This isn’t exactly how I envisioned trying to convince you of that, but I can’t complain about it,” Lyanna replied. “Fuck me, you’re so big.”
“Am I really?” Daemon asked, and she chuckled.
“Well, I’ve only seen two others in my life, the first of which belonged to a male servant I caught rutting one of the maids back in Winterfell, so I can’t really say with that much certainty, but I do know that you’re much, much bigger than I thought any man would be,” Lyanna replied. “You’re already so deep.”
He was so big that he made her insides burn a little from the sheer extent of how much he was stretching her. It hurt a little, but to her surprise, that hint of pain only enhanced the pleasure she was feeling, and he felt so very good inside her. She started riding him slowly, desperate to take as much of his cock inside her as she could, and she delighted in every pleasured look that crossed his handsome face. That aspect of sex, knowing that she was making her lover feel at least as good as she did, was something she’d always adored, and she’d missed it a great deal. As she felt herself relax a little bit around him, the burn fading bit by bit, she started bouncing on his cock and had to clap a hand over her mouth to muffle her pleasured cry when she felt her arse come to rest against his thighs, his entire length buried inside her.
“Holy fuck, Lya,” Daemon groaned, looking up at her in awe as he felt her squeeze him hard.
“I...did it,” Lyanna shuddered. “Fucking hells, you’re so deep. I swear I feel you in my stomach.”
“You’re so bloody tight,” Daemon sighed. “You feel so good.”
“Of course I’m tight,” Lyanna giggled. “I haven’t had sex in years, and you have a cock that would put stallions to shame.”
“You have a lot of lost time to make up for,” Daemon smirked, and she grinned, tickling his scalp as she ran her nail through his hair and stared down at him.
“I guess I do,” Lyanna said. “I don’t suppose you know of any men I could turn to for help. They’d have to be discreet, preferably handsome, and able to…”
She burst out laughing as he kissed her, hugging her tightly to his chest.
“I might know such a man, yes,” Daemon whispered. “We haven’t met, but you’ve met him.”
“Is he handsome?” Lyanna whispered.
“You think so,” Daemon replied. “He thinks you’re beautiful too.”
“Daemon,” Lyanna shuddered, feeling her heart swell at the sheer love and affection in his eyes.
It had been so long since she’d felt anything like this that she’d forgotten how badly she needed it. She rolled his hips forward, letting a few inches of his cock slip from her gripping tunnel, before pushing back down, moaning at the feeling of being filled again. Her underused muscles spasmed a little, as though her cunt was as shocked as she was that she was in this position, and she thought to herself that she couldn’t blame it if so. Working her way up to a steady pace, she rode him, moaning, gasping, and whimpering at the feeling of his cock inside her.
“Fucking hells, no wonder everyone’s so obsessed with this,” Daemon groaned, and she giggled.
“See why I...oh fuck...didn’t want you to abandon it?” Lyanna moaned. “The physical pleasure is only part of it too. There are so many joys in life, so many joys I wouldn’t want you to just give up.”
“I...think I see what you mean,” Daemon replied, his eyes locking onto her breasts as she pushed back, her hands resting on his shoulders for support.
“As obsessed with them as you were as a babe,” Lyanna giggled, and he cupped them, eager to knead and massage the supple mounds.
“I thought I had a wet nurse,” Daemon commented.
“You did,” Lyanna replied, “but I fed you too, and you always seemed to prefer me.”
“I had good taste,” Daemon replied, craning his head forward so he could capture one of her pebbled nipples with his lips.
“Oh gods!” Lyanna cried, holding his head to her chest as she continued to bounce on his cock.
“I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Daemon groaned.
“I’m getting close too,” Lyanna replied, taking his hand in hers and wrapping her lips around his thumb.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering what she was doing, and she just smiled at him before moving his hand down to her mound.
“Be gentle, but I want you to feel around for a hard little nub in here,” she said, moving his thumb into the forest of brown curls atop her sex. “Rub it, and I should cum easily enough.”
“I’ll try to hold out until then,” Daemon promised. “Uh, where should I…”
“Inside,” Lyanna replied. “I’ll take moon tea tomorrow.”
He felt around for what she described, figuring that she’d react when he found it. Lyanna picked up her pace, riding him harder and faster as she chased her peak. Her breasts started to bounce on her chest, drawing his gaze instantly, and he focused so much on that that he didn’t realize at first when he found the hard little nub he was searching for.
“Fuck!” Lyanna cried, and he looked up at her in concern for a moment. “That’s the spot. Rub it gently for me. Little circles.”
Daemon did as she asked, and her moans and cries grew louder. She knew she should be silent, but she couldn’t help it. He felt so good inside her, and the pressure in her core was becoming so maddeningly intense that all she could do was cry out in bliss.
“Oh gods, I love your cock,” Lyanna moaned. “Fuck me, Daemon, fuck me until I scream!”
“Can’t...believe we’re here,” Daemon groaned. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Lyanna moaned, leaning in to kiss him.
As she did, the angle of penetration changed slightly, and she felt him bump against something inside her that made her see stars. She cried out, her whole body going taut for a moment, and she tried to find that exact angle again and moaned loudly when she finally did.
“Fuck, I can’t hold on anymore,” Daemon gasped.
“Just a little more,” Lyanna begged. “Just a little more, just a…”
She trailed off with a keening wail as she came, and he grunted, “Mother!”
Hearing him call her that as she came around his cock only intensified her pleasure, and she buried her face in the pillow next to his head to muffle her screams as it thundered through her. The two of them clung to each other as they rode out the waves of pleasure together. He filled her with rope after rope of his seed, painting her inner walls white, and he held her tightly, overwhelmed as the feeling of it was more intense than anything he’d ever known. When they finally stilled, and his cock softened enough to slip out of her, Lyanna rolled onto her back, still panting for breath.
“That was...amazing,” she sighed, draping an arm over her head.
“Aye,” Daemon smiled, looking over at her.
She looked over and caught his eye, and the two of them just stared for a while, each seeing their own feelings reflected. As they saw the same love, desire, and trepidation in each other’s eyes, a single thought occurred to them: that while this should absolutely be a one-time thing that they never mentioned again, neither of them wanted it to be.