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mononijikayu · 2 years

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chapter vi.

chapter vi.

Rating: M

Warning: Targaryen Incest, Nude and Sexual Depictions;

Summary: MELLARA TARGARYEN breaks the chain of rules to meet DAEMON TARGARYEN three years after;

[the matriarch of the princedom of blackhall, princess dowager elaena was a woman of great virtue, of great intelligence and character. but she was also regarded as blunt to the point of disregarding the feelings of others. still, this widow was a loyal and loving supporter of her daughter’s happiness and hopes. even if it meant that she would get nothing but headaches from her daughter’s insistence to live in her own way, unlike any other lady of the realm.]

- maester aeron targaryen; adust

A D U S T m a s t e r l i s t

< you and i burn together or we shall die trying >

chapter i / chapter ii / chapter iii / chapter iv / chapter v

chapter vi / chapter vii / chapter viii / chapter ix / chapter x

chapter xi / chapter xii / chapter xiii / chapter xiv / chapter xv

chapter xvi / chapter xvii / chapter xviii

The hail of dark smoke poured through ambers gathered atop the fireplace, almost like birthing a dragon from the ashes. Elaena Velaryon had always been told that fire does not burn dragons, and often they called themselves blood of the dragon. That would be a lie, she thinks to herself as she pierces her lips into a flat line. Dragons burn. Her beloved Aelor had burned just as much. Her husband’s tears poured from dragon dreams that burnt him heart and soul. He had always told her that dragons were flesh and bone, easily vanquished by sword and flame. They are either cursed to die in the flames or let themselves be foolish enough to succumb to them. Aelor had cried so often that fire will burn him, just as much as the curse the gods have gifted him.

The seasoned princess dowager had been a spectator to much misfortune in her family, much too much to count with the fringes of her aged fingers. The flashes of memories came constantly, a river’s pace as it crawled to the sea with haste. It was hard to be the one, to be left behind, and to remember. To bear the wishes of the dead, to continue a legacy that you were not meant to carry. But Elaena knew that no one else could take that mantle. The rest have gone too soon, so young, to aged time and to accidents that the hands of gods made in the thread of gold. It was her responsibility to keep this fledgling family together, as she was the only one who remained - the only one who could keep their family’s word of truth alive. Even if that meant going against her nephew, the king.

"Time and time again, you have disobeyed me.“ The king’s loud voice echoed with venom, his dark purple eyes shining in anger. There is no doubt it could be heard from outside. "Once again, you prove to me how you cannot be trusted, aunt.”

"What is your proof, nephew, that I disobeyed?“ The princess dowager calmly replied, hands resting on the small of her lap, eyes tethered to the king. "You only have the lying, self serving tongue of a repetitive offender like lord Hightower, don’t you?”

"I know that you detest that I have remarried, I know you still mourn Aemma.“ He frowned softly at her. "But do well to act gracefully towards the queen and her family. Do well to speak of my good father in such a manner, dowager princess. He is my good - father.”

"And your grace does well to remember that hostility towards his elders forgets the rule of respect. Am I not the matriarch of this family, nephew?“ Elaena responds, unmoving as she watches the king frustratedly pace.

“You are, aunt. But Alicent is now part of our family. You have need to guide her, not chastise her or her father.”

"The queen or her father have none for me. What shall I do if they do not want peace with me and mine own kin? I had done what I felt best, to reprimand her and her behaviour. You know just as much your own mother would have berated your wife for her behaviour just as much as I.”

“And you let your own daughter to be disobedient and isolent? You let Mellara leave court without my leave, without my permission!” Viserys exclaimed, his fury engrossed in his features. “You excuse her behaviour of disrespect but not my own wife, who is still learning our ways?”

The princess dowager’s lips opened, chortling sounds leaving. “Why, has my daughter not served our house dedicatedly, nephew? If anything, her insolence has more to do with the burdening of duty. You ought to forgive it, as her dear cousin.”

The king shook his head. “I am still her king, just as much as I am her elder cousin. I am the one who she must obey and support in such duties. No matter how they burden her.”

“You act as if she will not return to do so again.” The glistening of the rings upon her finger shone lowly against the fire. "And besides, she has all but succumbed to your will in the thought of marriage. Are you not delighted that she will return at all?”

The loud snickering of the king echoed. “And what say you, now that she too has abandoned my daughter, the princess she serves?”

"Rhaenyra knows just as well as I that she will do her duty and return. I am here in her stead until her return.“ Elaena responds, sighing against her arm rest. "And besides, nephew, my daughter has waited long enough. It is a mercy to finally let her leave. As it is for my grandson, to see his father finally.”

Viserys shook his head. “A child who has not yet known of his father, five years.”

"And was it not you who has kept them apart for that long? For duty?“ The dowager princess’s eyes pierced through her nephew’s own as it filled with morose and guilt. “You were cruel to do so, Viserys.”

The king shook his head, sneering deeply. “My vagabond brother had made that choice.”

"And yet you still rob your vagabond of a brother from being a father to his only child. War is bad enough.“ The seasoned woman reasoned, the silk of her veil following her body’s straightening. "And i should implore you, nephew. The child is Daemon’s heir as much as he is Mellara’s own. With this proof, there ought to be a marriage already.”

"Daemon is married. To lady Rhea of house Royce, aunt.”

The marriage was a sham, the princess dowager wanted to say out loud. Her lips twisted as the memories flooded her mind like an ocenn wave crashing to shore with vigour. Aelor was not in favor of the match, as was her good - brother prince Baelon. In the same stroke queen Alysanne had made the loving match between Viserys and Aemma, she had made her vegenence against Jaehaerys at the loss of her daughters. By depriving him of another male heir, her husband said as much. Baelon had wanted his son to wed for love, or at the very least wed to kin. Her good - brother had told how he looks at their daughter Mellara, on the rare occassions Daemon would see her. The match would have been successful.

But the queen has made up her mind. Any sense had gone out the window with all the contradictions between her good-mother and her sons. The two sons of queen Alysanne had not spoken with their mother for moons, not until the miserable wedding that occured in Runestone. Elaena Velaryon knew it was hard to forget, the despondent look from her younger nephew at the sight of the septon wrapping his hand to a woman who reflected his distaste. Prince Baelon had drunk merely with his younger son, disappearing together to avoid any commitment to bedding his unwanted wife. But queen Alysanne had them to find Daemon, and reprimanded her son for encouraging her grandson’s rebellion.

In these many years, Elaena had wished she had spoken to her husband. That she had agreed with Baelon. The way her daughter had looked at her lover like he was the wonder of the infinite stars. The princess dowager in truth had not understood it then, when they had started to blossom their love as youths. Yet it was when Daemon smiled at Mellara, Elaena came to realize it all. It was as though she was the beginning and end of his world. The universe he dwells upon. The sun that allows him to be blessed with life. She was the air he breathes, the water that sustains his body and flesh. Mellara was everything to him. She always will be.

‘Aelor used to look at me like that. And I him.’ She mourns to herself years ago. ‘He loved me so deeply, just like that. Just the same.’

In these years, the idea of Daemon’s vagabond nature had all but melted away in her mind. Her daughter’s sorrows were poured into endless tears at the thought of missing him. At the thought of all he had missed in her grandson’s life. Her bitterness was not worth encouraging the pains of all she had left of her husband. In truth, she knew deep inside that her nephew was what her daughter deserved. He was good to her, he loved her. He would burn the world to the ground before he would ever breaking apart from her. That she knew too well. These years had not been kind to them, she knew that much. it was better they return in each other’s arms than not at all.

"To a woman he does not seek the warmth of, nor a woman he does not love.Is it so bad for my daughter, for your brother - to be want to be together?” She retorted sharply. “Mellara is his choice. They have had two children together. And yet, just as much you deny them of the chance to be together. Just like your cruel grandfather.”

“I am not my grandfather,”

Elaena snickers. “You’ve barely proven yourself not to be, nephew. With the way you act, you seek to deprieve my daughter and her son of someone they love.”

His gaze hardened as he moved, towering over her. “I will not dissolve the marriage.”

"You do not have to.“ She did not break eye contact, staring back just as intensely. "Aegon the Conqueror had a second wife—”

"I will not humour it.“ Viserys gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. "It would insult house Royce.”

Elaena felt like she had to laugh. “Oh? Now you care for insulting those in the Vale? Did you not think of afrront you have caused when you remarried so suddenly? Did you not know how that has offended her beloved sisters in the Vale?”

The kings brows furrowed. “Lady Elys and lady Amanda has written to you?”

“Why would they not?” She retorts back to her nephew. “Elys may have been dismissive of Daella, but she adored Aemma. Amanda more so than her sister. But what may I say? They cannot of course fight the king’s noble desire.”

Viserys Targaryen did not reply to her, but a deep grudge in his glare beckoned to her like dragonfire. The reminder of his failure, of his sin had always followed him like plague. A vengeful ghost that refuses to rescind its right to haunt him. Elaena had not meant to be personal, to hit her nephew where she knew his heart still dwelled unhealed. But she felt no choice any longer, how to settle her nephew straight. He was a man grown and he was king. He could take her voice into account and he could reject it all the same.

Elaena wondered what Baelon would think of his son’s actions. What Alyssa would feel about her son’s carelessness and heedless folly. For a moment, the princess dowager could not help but feel as though she has failed them, have failed queen Alysanne. She was all that remained, she knew that to be true. Aelor had implored her to care for this family, those were his last words to her. And she now fears, that she is failing their house, failing him who is watching her.

“It is not that simple.”

“You had simply decided to do what you did for yourself, nephew. You had gone against your grandfather’s words on the succession just as much. As you also did for your second marriage.” Elaena whispers to her nephew, a small sly smile on her lips. “If your will could do as you wish, why not here, upon this matter?”

“The faith–”

“Ah, and there it is.” The princess dowager snickers hollowly. “You are afraid that house Hightower would intervene. That they would be displeased to see your brother be allowed do as he had always wished.”

"Maegor the Cruel–"

"Are you tired of speaking Otto Hightower’s tongue?“ The elder woman asked, watching the king close his eyes in exasperation. The dowager princess’s eyes glimmer with a dark shine. "I, for one, am exhausted of hearing his words poison you with venom, nephew.”

"Have you had enough of criticising the hand, aunt? Of blaming him for your misfortunes?“

"No, I have not.” Elaena replied honestly. “Why should I when he dares tear this family apart? We have suffered too much for his greed, nephew.”

"Lord Otto is a loyal servant of the crown.“ The king argues with his aunt, moving away from her. "He has served my grandfather, the old king.”

"His loyalty is to himself, nephew. A foolish errand for his glory. Nothing more and nothing less. He has been tearing us apart.“ She disagreed, watching him gaze at the fireplace. "I have seen his loyalty. And ‘tis nothing but falsities. He has alienated you from your family, nephew. Could you not see it?”

The king snorted, unbelieving at his aunt’s words. “Daemon chose his war and has left this family alone. He had come to abandon it for ambition, and disobeyed me as a lot of you have. ”

Elaena tilted her head to the side. “You have not been keen on seeing it the way your brother has, blinded by your wanting for all those cruel presumptions to be true. To validate your wrongs.”

The king raised his eyebrows, confused. “And pray tell, what does the dowager princess think my mischievous brother sees better than this blindsided king?”

"You know better than I that your brother has thought that he must prove himself.“ The princess’s explanations gather through the air. "My nephew Corlys offered him an opportunity and he took it. As any second son would have.”

"He had every opportunity to prove himself.“ Viserys shook his head in despondency. "I had given him at each turn a chance to have a moment to shine.”

“Is that the whole of the truth, nephew?” The princess dowager dismissed his words, moving closer to see the storm of emotions on his eyes. “Or is that what the king wishes to believe? For of course, this is only the king in front of me. Forgive me, your grace.”

“Aunt,” Viserys found himself frowning. “I am your nephew more than I am your king.”

“You have not given me any other reason to see you nothing but as my king.”

Viserys shook his head, taking a deep breath. “What should I do?”

"Let your brother be and let him prove himself. He is not against you, let me reassure you. not against those who wish to destroy us.“ She smiles at him. "The trade can continue without the interference of the Triarchy and our ports will flourish once again. High Tide will slowly return to heel.”

"You say that as though it was easy.“ The king chuckled bitterly. "Those two have yet to have cause to forgive grievances.”

She nodded, “That may be true, but it is a first step.”

"And do you think it would work?”

"In your years as king, he has done what you asked of him. He is your brother. He will do as you bid. At times, we may not agree with him but he is one of us.” Elaena whispers to his nephew. “Welcome him, let him come home with open arms. There are so very few of us already, Viserys. We need each other.”

"If I recall, my aunt has a deep hatred for my brother for corrupting her daughter.“

“Yet he is still what my daughter will choose.” She smiles, narrowing her eyes towards the flame. “I would rather her be happy, than not at all.”

“You say that as though it is your truth, aunt.”

“It is my truth, nephew. Just as it is truth that both of you are the sun and he the moon.”

The king raises curious look at his aunt. “What do you mean?”

"It is hard to shine when your brother is the sun.” The older lady sighed, her hands retreating to her empty side. He glances for a moment, trying to see her reasoning. “On everything, he will always be overshadowed by your shadow on everything. The moon will always shine behind the sun in an eclipse. He will always try to find a way out of it.”

"If he feels that way, he should tell me.“ Viserys rests his hand above the marble facade of the fireplace. "He should come to me...He knows he can.”

"It is not as easy as you dare declare, nephew. You are his king, more than you are his brother now.” A sorrowful look blossoms on his aunt’s seasoned features. “And he, well knows he is a sword. The sword you do not want to wield. Even he wants to serve you, you would not allow him oout of the sheath.”

"A sword that does not do as its master commands is of no use.“ A deep sigh is released from the king. "It is not meant to be wielded if that is the case.”

An observant smile slivers through her lips. “Is that what you are forcing yourself to believe, my nephew?”

"I do not force anything, aunt.“ The king released his hand from the marble surface and rested his arms behind the small of his back. "Perhaps age has made you weary, aunt.”

"I make no mistakes on the matter.“

"What do you mean, aunt?”

Elaena Velaryon soon felt all her burdening sorrows pour down on her like a sudden downpour.At that moment, she felt like she had seen the young boy again. That young boy who cried for his mother at the dawn of the morning. The young man who stood vigil at his father’s corpse. The man who had felt his world shatter when his name was called for all the realm to hear was back. Almost at the moment, Elaena recalled how much this young boy had relied on her hand at each turn. To fill the void of a mother he had lost so dreadfully young. He needed to lean on her wisdom when he needed advice. She felt her heart drift away from her, almost as though stone had become her heart and shattered into dust. It hurts, to admit it all.

It made Elaena fear for what the future would become. Viserys Targaryen was a good king, who had a sane mind and an able spirit. However, joy and eagerness do not compensate for flaws.It had been so long since Elaena had seen greener pastures, a time when a silver reign gathered atop the iron throne’s shined with truthful power. All she had seen since had been stone dragons tumbling into dust, a crumbling of such glories living in the memories of stories her mother had whispered to her in her sleep, of a king who conquered and a king who had ruled.

"There is a distance between us.“ Elaena whispers somberly, watching the king’s features turn a perplexed turn. "One that had never existed before. You have changed, your grace. And not for the good. ”

"You speak in riddles, aunt.“

Elaena finally stood, standing in front of her nephew.

She takes his hand on her own, squeezing it.

"It is better that way, Viserys. For our sake.”

The fluttering winds gracing the complexion of snow upon the three headed dragon standard under the black field beckoned across the sails. It had been the scent of salt and cool waters that had caused a good breeze away from the hot weather glaring down upon the royal party. The bustling of men dressed in fine black Riverlander linen, moving about the massive wooden bow of the ship as it crossed the heaving waves of the sea. The ladies stood slightly farther with a graceful posture, dressed in fine silver silk, prompt with gorgeous Myrish lace. The ship’s crew were loud, orders being thrown back each and every motion. This was happening in all ten of the ships that had come with them from Blackhall.

Standing by the edge where the massive screeching dragon pelted with gleaming silver, Aemon Targaryen stood, dressed in the finest black cotton doublet trimmed with ermine and white silk across it. His fine silver hair sprung away with the wind, eyes beaming with sunshine as he held the small dragon as it screeched to the sky. Soon enough, the song was reciprocated as the monstrous shadow of night swallowed the sun away. Blacknight sang with pride as they flew past, screeching a song that had become the song of freedom. The young prince looked in awe, watching the dragon fly further and grinned, watching long silver strands spun to reveal a face. The gaze of warm lilac eyes against his own made him happy. His cheers grew excitedly, a free hand raised soon enough to wave.

Mellara Targaryen felt her entire body light up in joyous jubilation as she gazed with love towards her young son. It had been a long time since they had come together. Every heir of Blackhall could not leave it be. They must grow there, to be loved by the small folk. A hard decision no less, upset that she had missed much time with him as he grew. It had been a relief to have him be taken to court, though she detested having to bring him in such a place of vipers at all. Perhaps it was a mercy on her cousin the king’s part. Looking at the sea that was ahead of her, she smiled softly. Even in her moments of loss, it was a good reminder that she still had a part of Daemon with her, one that would intertwine them together even when they were apart.

Taking in the wonder of her son’s smiling face, she recalled the day he had chosen he had met his dragon. Her son had loved dragons the moment he was born, his small infantilized hands gathering themselves towards a shattering egg where young Aelyx breathed the first spin of life. Mellara had recalled from her mother’s stories that Daemon too had been like that as a boy, mischievous and too eager with Caraxes. Aemon had been much too eager to pull at Aelyx and so was Aelyx who nibbed at the young prince’s skin.

The dark shade of red and black eagerly shining across the dragon’s young body, its scales as strong as Valyrian steel. Yet so fragile, so young. There was much that still was needed for the dragon to grow. But it will come, with time. Alyx will grow together with her son, as they should be. And they will live a good and long life, that Mellara was eager to ensure. Especially with a father by his side, one that she knew craved his son to be at his side. As she flew further, the sight of land became more and more evident with the figure of green gracing the presence of white chalky cliffs through a sparse area through the wide sea.

It had been a long time since she had last been here, flying atop the desolation of the Narrow Sea. The last had been with her princely father when he had still been living, gracing a laugh as she held tightly to him through the speed that Blacknight went through diving narrowly just ever so slightly against the sea water. Mellara had been crossed with her father, fearing pirates would come and eagerly shoot at Blacknight and in turn hurt her and father. Her father’s laughter completely drowned such complaints, with reassuring tones beckoning her to enjoy the moment.

Mellara at the time had wished she had never come, owing to the fact that her father had decided to drink himself to a stupor and found himself dancing with Tyroshi merchants who merrily obliged his every request for another pour of wine. But now that she had looked at this place, recalling each memory with longing to see him laugh again and even merry with wine again made her appreciate the time she had with her father here.

They had seen the sunset together, sitting beside one another in tranquil quiet. There was nothing but each other’s hand warming the other that spoke all that needed to be said. Mellara had not wanted Aemon to miss any more of the father he had not been allowed to know. In many years, her son too would look back at all these moments, all these memories wishing that for a life that had been lived with his extraordinary father around.

Least of all herself. The young woman felt her eyes turn glassy as she let her head slowly fall onto the saddle. She had played it over and over in her head, how she would come to approach him when the time came, that she would see him again. After all the days that passed with much too much yearning, such grief felt all too familiar to her. In so many years, the princess has tried so hard to remember what it had felt like. To have him in her life, in her arms; his warmth which she desperately craved in the cold nights where she could not bear to sleep alone. Like the emptiness she felt when her father had passed, the long distance she had to live through from her lover had caused her nothing but wanting. Even for a moment.

Mellara Targaryen could not help but be overwhelmed by much too many emotions she could not explain as Blacknight lowered them onto the full few of rocky peaks and harsh land. He was nearby now, she thought to herself. Somewhere on these isles, she knew that her heart still beats. That there could be life blossoming spring in these desolate deserts she had drifted through with aimless wandering. As Blacknight landed with care, she turned back to see that the ships had yet to arrive. Breathlessly, Mellara had realised that she had gotten here first. Turning back, she could not help but raise her hand towards the land that was now so near and yet still so far away.

They would meet again.

This was real.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The young princess was immediately welcomed. The tension of her body quickened even further as she brought herself forward towards the red manse, glaring over the isles. It had been tiring to walk, but Blacknight had worked tirelessly to get her through the seas, she would not ask more of her beloved dragon. Walking through as Blacknight followed her, flying above her with endless abandon, they made it through the hard plains, where the sight of men ushered forth to work. Endless corpses were being carted away, comrades and foes, to the farther shores to burn with Caraxes’s flame. That’s what Mellara had heard from a soldier who had bowed his head to her.

Though what had confused her was that he had called her queen. As did the many that had passed her by, eagerly greeting her with marvel. They bowed to her as though she was a goddess walking among them with the mandate of the heavens and their favour. At each turn, Mellara could only shake her head and dismiss them. Mellara had not been born to be a queen. It would never be. Her father was not heir, nor was she eager to bear a crown upon her head. The young princess had always been content with her life without the interference of the whispering of endless games for power. Tranquillity and peace had been her delight and it shall always be. She does not live for glory, unlike Daemon. She craved the silence.

When the silver princess gathered herself atop the red manse, servants had come to welcome her with endless praise. Mellara shook her head at such a thing, eager to avoid more of this. There was no need to ask where Daemon would be. She knew this house just as well as he did. They too had come here together, much too many times before. He would be there, waiting on her. Bypassing the steps, Mellara readied herself as she bit her lip. This was this moment she had been yearning for many of her endless days for. Stopping at the massive red oak entrance, she gathered the strength from the gods.

Her hands yielded its presence to the doors.

Pushing it open, Mellara let the sun pour through her.

The ornate room smelt of the strong scent of wild daisies as the burnt out candles glistened through the sun, the hearth that had been burning hotly through the room had been gone many hours ago. The young princess was impressed with how nothing had changed. The chambers were just the same as they had been before. Just the same as the day he had told her he loved her for the first time.

The endless charting of clothes rested upon the ornate sofa, as fresh as they had been when he had first worn it. She could smell the essence of war drift through each cloth as she got near them. Maps were everywhere, scrolled across the chambers. The long sword Dark Sister rested upon the beautiful oak table in the corner, the baldric intertwined with it. It had been the one she had gifted him all those years ago. Her soft fingers felt the rough edges, almost wondering if it had been real. That she was touching it truly, as she had all those years when she would help him remove his clothing.

Big wooden shelves lined with blackened oak gathered itself with endless memories. She could feel her lungs gone from her body as she gazed at the many books that had been resting through the oak. Pulling a book off the shelves, Mellara could see that each and every one was the book she had loved to read. Many of which had been long forgotten from her memories. But they were still buried in her, almost like a long time ago had been the yesterday she had quickly forgotten. Turning away after she returned the book, Mellara turned to the adjoined rectangular table with many drawers filled with parchments, quills and ink pelted to the surface. Her name sprawled across a letter that would never be sent.

She felt tears sprawl down her porcelain cheeks.

“It seems like you have seen it.” The voice asked her as she stopped, her body frozen from shock. “It was not something I was willing to change. After all this time. That would have been stupid.”

Bitter tears fell across her eyes more and more as she tried to make sense of her reality. The forlorn on his face as he watched her. Mellara placed her hand against her mouth, choking through her tears as she fell onto the floor, her legs weakened against her. The shine of Targaryen tapestries weaved through with silver and gold glistened against the sun, Daemon could only walk past each of them and fell to his knees beside her. She had not changed, her features still the same as when he had lost seen her. His fingers could only trace its flesh against her cheeks. Mellara huffed a cry, pushing him away.

His arms spread wide open and soon enough wrapped them around her tightly, bone crushingly. Mellara Targaryen felt her hand drop, tears yielded with screaming and her hands soon enough brutalised themselves on his body with thundering force. Daemon did not stop her, he let her do as she pleased as he held her closer, not willing to let his touch leave her warmth.They had been apart for too long, he thinks to himself. Too much for his liking. For all these years, he had always thought that he was barely breathing, without the air to bring life to his lungs and his blood unwilling to blossom through his many veins. Without her touch, without her words or her warmth near him. He was nothing but a shell of the man he truly was.

“You bastard!” Mellara cried with a loud tone, her arms pushing him away. Her tone was full of mournful discern. “You horrible fool. You stupid, stupid man! You abandoned me, you left me! You left us! How could you do that to me? How could you leave me, Daemon? How could you?”

“I’m sorry. My beloved, my little dragon, I am sorry.” He whispered to her as he continued to hold her to his body. He could only embrace her deeper in the enveloping of his warm arms. “I am sorry for staying away for too long.”

“You hurt me….” She cried weakly, her fingers fisting through his body. “You hurt me, Daemon.”

“I know.” Daemon nodded softly, his free hand brushing against her hair. “It will never happen again. I swear.”

The two of them had stayed like that for a moment, letting out all she had wanted to say to him, all her grief and pain. Slowly through the moments that passed through, Mellara had felt her body become less shaken. Tears were slowly getting sober. Moving away from his body, the two of them let their eyes meet in an intense embrace, almost as if they had already bedded one another with just looks and gazes. Her eyes had gotten red and puffy from all her salty tears. Daemon leaned forward and carefully placed a kiss upon each eye, gently whispering sweet words to her.

Perhaps she was just it was her longing, perhaps it was just nothing but she felt everything magnified into a chaotic unknown. She felt wanting as she looked at him as she looked at him, the feeling of being near him somehow made something spark for her. Something that made her feel such eagerness but also felt safe and warm. She could feel her heart pounding from her begotten chest, the blood on her veins pumping hard at the thought of everything that could happen now and through all these years. Daemon too felt it, she was sure he did. This was the moment they had been so eagerly yearning for. This is what they deserved.

Daemon leaned forward his beloved and placed a hand on her soft porcelain cheeks. "I want only you, my little dragon. You are mine. My little queen. My beloved. My wife of choice. My only wife.”

"I choose only you, my only truth and my only want.” She responded to Daemon as she ran her hands on his arms. Daemon closed his eyes eagerly, taking in all her touch, her touch that he had missed. “I want to marry you, in our only way. Our true way. As we always had in Valyria, just you and I.”

“It shall be done, all you ask of me.” Daemon leaned in, whispering hotly in her ear. “I will give you all you desire, my love. Just let me do it.”

She removes his hand from her face and places it towards the laces of her dress, looking at his handsome clean shaven face. He opened his eyes as he followed the sight of her hands. The rogue prince pursed his lips at the sight of her face eagerly seducing him as she came closer.

“Then take me, Daemon Targaryen.” Mellara says, leaned closer to him. “Take this wife who yearns for him.”

He needed no more convincing as he pushed her towards the table and removed her laces. He allowed himself to devour her mouth with his own and was surprised to see her return the favour as she kissed him back just as passionately and just as fiercely. Both fought for dominance like animals, needing to resolve their hunger. His strong hands were undoing the laces of the bottom of her dress as her arms were wrapped around his neck, massaging it gently earning little grunts from him.

His tongue inserted inside of her mouth, fighting against hers in a fury as he managed to remove all the laces of her dress. They were now intertwined with one another in this heated mess, his hands ripping off his Mellara’s clothing from her as quickly and as carefully as he could as she continued to kiss him. The silver haired woman moaned as she felt his touch on her breast, being only in her shift. Daemon broke the kiss to move all of the shift and lower undergarments of his beloved and continued to kiss her, earning a laugh from her in his eagerness.

He sat her on the table and as he stopped kissing her lips and moved on to kiss with such tenderness, her shoulders, her neck and then her breast. He looked at her as she nodded. He smiled and squeezed both of her breasts. There was so much in her self that felt pleasure burning her there but when she found him suckling her right breast as he squeezed hard on the other, that is when the pleasure intensified. Mellara kept moaning; he continued to lick and suck like a babe would to its mother, wishing to taste the nectar that only gods could take.

"I have waited for this moment for years, to have this moment.” He said, continuing to squeeze her breasts as she tried to calm herself. “To worship my beloved little dragon again.”

"Love me, Daemon. Love me in the way only you could.” Mellara replied to her lover as he grinned at her and kissed her, moving her breasts around before putting his mouth on her other breast, causing her to moan hard and throw back her head at the pleasure. Her hands touched his hair, encouraging him to ravage her breasts.

Their bodies were melting into one.

When Daemon finished with her breasts, he kissed her again and took the princess’s legs to wrap around his waist. Daemon eagerly carried his Mellara towards the direction of their bed, continuing to respond to her kisses. Mellara was laid by her lover onto their wide sofa, her hands deep into his long hair. She could feel herself getting into it more, feeling more sober than drunk. Breaking away from his lips, she eyed him as she took time to breath, having been overwhelmed by his passionate lips.

“Don’t you think that you are too fuly clothed?”

Daemon chuckled at her words. “I suppose so, my dear little dragon.”

Mellara then kissed him as she helped him out his clothing, her hands removing the white shirt he still wore from him and without breaking the embrace, removed it off him. As she moved towards the breeches heeagerly tried to help her but she kept diverting his hands elsewhere on her body. Once she successfully removed his breeches, she was aware that he wore nothing else underneath. Mellara felt pleasure at the fact that his manhood was touching her skin.

Mellara could only moan in pleasure as he kissed her body moving down to her womanhood. From her ear to her legs, her unique hair scatters into a form of a beautiful halo. Daemon had felt like he was a pilgrim begging whatever gods there was and ever will be to come and give him direction. And here was one goddess who had come before hiim, giving him all he ever wanted and he was worshipping the goddess for her gifts each and everyday at her temple. Daemon placed a kiss to her womanhood, causing her to moan. Then, he allowed himself to look at her cunt and smirked at her before allowing his finger to move about it.

She could not help rolling her eyes back at the pleasure her beloved Daemon was giving her, after all they had been through as he continued to continued his conquest across her body. He moved to lean over to her, kissing her neck and then moved to her ear to whisper, causing her to giggle. Mellara felt the pressure inside of her body build up as he continued to pleasure her well. Daemon had always loved the sight of her body being consumed by him, little by little with every bit of her becoming his once again. He kept moving and whispering to her until she could not hold on any longer, taking his forearm and holding it in place as she came.

“You are so beautiful.” He commented huskily in that tone she had never heard from him in a long time. He had always been so eager, but more so tonight. He was man who was hungry for her. He kissed her body once more, watching her still release herself from the high of his touch. “So beautiful, my beloved wife. My Mellara.”

Damon looked to her and allowed his tongue to lick her juices, earning great favour from the goddess in his arms as he did that, She did not expected him to put add his fingers slowly but she should have. Daemon was willing to take care of her. The loud pleasure-filled noise exploded out her mouth like a thunder storm out to sea, revelling in sensual gratification in the pleasure he was giving her. It was even more than what she had expected, what she had wanted. More than what she could do to herself in his absence. This is where she belonged. Daemon smirked slowly as he continued to lick her cunt as he placed his fingers back inside of her, making her throw her head back against the pillow once more.

He pumped his fingers in her deeply, finishing with her cunt and focused more on causing his wife pleasure. Mellara felt the arch her back with wordless nonsense and satisfied moans gracing her lips as her heart like it had burst out of her.

Daemon kissed her gently once more, her pleasure growing through their lips. “So wet, you are, my dear little wife.”

Daemon leaned down to look with wanting at his Mellara being so consumed by the pleasure he gave her. It was filling him with so much lust, lust beyond what was there to be had. It had all been bubbling up inside him. Not once did he bed any woman in the three years in the war. Not once even offered. He had been yearning for his little dragon, she was the one he needed. She was the only one that could satisfy him, the only one that made him greatly filled with eagerness to continue to please her. No one can make him yearn for it so much, to wait so long for one moment. None had ever had the power to do so. Only his Mellara.

She could feel herself getting tighter around his fingers and as he kept pumping into her, all she could ever think was the amazing feeling, almost intoxicating and devouring. Mellara can only called out her husband’s name over and over again, which pleased him with delight. It had been something he had been wanting. Each time she screamed his name, calling him her husband had energized him so much as he pumped into her even harder. She felt then that she had come, the swirling pool of desire flowed through her.

As she sat up when the high of pleasure ended, it caused her more pleasure to see her husband lick her juices from his fingers. “You taste wonderfully, wife. You are the marvel of the world.”

Mellara could smile at him in her fantastical delirium and he did too but he was not done with her. Before long, the rogue had lunged towards her womanhood with his lips causing his little dragon to whimper as he entered his mouth into her, his tongue swirling around her insides like it was the fountain of life. Youth sprang through her and through him. Mellara had not known anything like it, not even when they had laid together all those years ago. Her wanting of him, her already releasing of pleasure before – it had all excited her body to react.

He continued on and on and on and on, not giving his beloved any rest. Only the scent of pleasure consuming them all at once, not caring for who shall see or who shall come to expose them.

Mellara could hardly care as she allow her fingers to grab his long silver locks that flowed through the small of his back as he continued to awaken her desires. Daemon groaned as she did so, pushing even harder and harder as she started to move against his tongue. The young princess used her other hand to grab the soft linen lines as she cried out in ecstasy, feeling herself come once again. He removed his tongue from her womanhood and kissed her, making her feel the womanhood he loved. Kissing her thighs lovingly, Daemon watch her body limp through weariness as pleasure slowly shook her body.

“You did so well, my wife.” Daemon praised, heavy in pleasure as he watched her shift her body after she recovered herself. “You did so well.”

She kissed his palm as she leaned upwards. “I am so delighted by you.”

“As am I wish you.” Daemon whispers, kissing wrist. “I have missed you.’

“As have I.”

"Are you willing to make up for our lost time, my love?” He asked her warmly as The princess shook her head. “Why? Is there something you wish to do? Should we stop?”

“I want to touch you.” Melalra said as she neared his manhood and looked at his eyes. “Grant my request, my beloved husband.”

"I cannot say no to you, my love.” Daemon says, sighing as he smiled. “Go ahead my beloved wife. Touch me as you wish.”

The young princess smiled at her husband as she looked at him, bending her head down with her hair following. She allowed her fingers to touch the tip of his penis, causing him to grunt a little. Usually this was a whore’s job. Mellara had no business to do such a thing, as a noble woman, a princess. But she wanted him. She wanted him to remember that she wanted this. That he will only have this moment with her. She will enjoy this. She grinned as she allowed one hand to grab it into a small fist. Daemon grunted more as she started to allow the fist to go up and down, swloly and then gradually with speed. Melalra watched his face become contorted with pleasure as he started to become undone as she started to move her hand faster and faster and faster.

Daemon felt her stop. He lowered his body, gazing at her before finding himself throwing his head backas she took hold of the cock with both hands and took it in her mouth. Mellara allowed half inside then little by little she allowed all of it inside of her. Once he was fully inside her mouth, she started to bob her head deeper and deeper at her pace. Daemon was groaning and moaning, holding onto the the linen as started to reveal her hidden mastery. Her right hand massaged his balls while her other hand touched her womanhood and moved her finger inside, giving herself to pleasure just as much as she would for him.

Daemon felt his hand rest upon her head as she continued to bob into his manhood and soon he was helping her as he thrusted into her mouth and his hand forced her head to thrust into him deeper. The young silver princess had felt herself gagged at the tightness of his manhood in her mouth. She finally came with a small sound bellowing from her. Daemon groaned hard in pleasure as he continued to thrust and thrust into her and came inside of her with a loud roar. Mellara had drank all of her husband as the sweat of pleasure was evidently slick to their bodies.

The high had taken them both, the two falling atop each other as the pleasure belted through the dragons. It had been so long, since they had found themselves pleasuring each other. This was not what Mellara had expected. But it was hard to understand, their relationship. It was what it was. They felt resentment at times, they part from one another with constant anger and disappointment. It could not be helped.

That happens. But they know they could never have anyone besides each other. One soul cannot survive without the other. Not even if the gods decided to end this life and tear them apart in another. Mellara Targaryen was certain. She would continue to find him over and over again. She knew with certainty that he would do the same thing too.

“I meant it. I always have, my beloved little dragon.” Daemon says as he gathered his breath. Mellara raised a brow, brain fogged with weariness. “All these years waiting, playing by the rules. I want to correct that mistake, my love. At this very moment.”

“Do you really?” She sobered from her high, moving closer to him. He nodded, eyes full of determination. “Daemon, I want to tell you that this would not be easy. Viserys will not sanction it and he expects me to return, to wed.”

He took her hand, playing with the small of her fingers. He smiles down at her. “I would not have chosen you if I had known it would be easy. My love, I have loved you. Since I saw you holding flowers in your hands in Dragonstone, I had chosen you.”

Mellara felt her eyes water, smiling at him with joy. “As I have you, my love. I have always loved you, I just did not know then, to admit it. Even when we had it hard, you stuck by my side. Even when I pushed you away, you still stood beside me.”

“Hm, and its because I have none other than you.” He whispers back to her, kissing her fingers softly. “That is why I want you. I want to be your husband, Mellara. Fuck the world, what my brother thinks. All that matters is us, you. Our son. Nothing else matters.”

Her eyes gleamed. “Then I take you, my beloved, as my husband. If you would have me.”

“I will.” He swears to her breathlessly, brushing through her silver crown. “I take you, only you. My wife.”

Daemon stood from his position, lettind her hand rest upon her side and gathered Dark Sister upon the table nearby. Daemon unseathed the sword from its sleeping confines. Mellara gazed at the sword, awe-stricken. Daemon knelt in front of her, holding out the Valyrian steel sword and placing the small of his palm on the blade and squeezing it. Blood poured through the sword and soon enough, his eyes drifted to her with so much love in his eyes. She could feel her heart pound, as though she was one of the living again. She no longer was wandering.

Her heart was here and her life was here. This was home. Soon enough complete. She let her hand rest atop the blade, squeezing it tightly just as he did. It did not hurt her, but she had flinched at the size of the sword. Her blood poured against his, dripping through the sword’s hilt. Mellara let go soon after and as did Daemon. He placed the sword carefully upon the side and turned back to her. Taking her hand into his, their blood continued to drip down their arms, intertwining like it had been an endless knot being put together over and over. Daemon smiled at her as he placed a kiss upon the top of her hand and soon she too followed, returning his smile.

“I take you, Mellara Targaryen, as my chosen wife.” Daemon’s voice deepened in Valyrian as she watched him. “Ashes to ashes, we may become. The fourteen fires and fourteen gods guide us through. I chose you till the end of my days as I do return to home. Through fire and through blood, we shall unite as one. Husband and wife, from now till forever.”

“It is my turn.” Mellara whispered to him, watching him nod and smile. She could not take her eyes away from him. “I take you, Daemon Targaryen, as my chosen husband. Ashes to ashes, we may become. The fourteen fires and fourteen gods guide us through. I chose you till the end of my days as I do return to home. Through fire and through blood, we shall unite as one. Husband and wife, from now till forever.”

“Then we are married by the eyes of Valyria.” Daemon beamed proudly, parting their hands. Mellara squealed of joy as she and Daemon leand forward and kissed one another, sealing the matrimony. “This is the truest marriage we have. We have chosen each other, without pressure or mistake. I chose you, wife.”

“As I did you, husband.” She liked that, to call him such a word. “I chose you too.”

“No matter what comes, my love.” Daemon whispers to her, taking her face into his hands. “Nothing else will matter. Other men, other women. Whoeever my brother says we are married to. They are falsities. You and I, we are the truest one. Do you understand?”

Mellara nodded, smiling happily. “Yes, my love. I do.”

Daemon grinned happily. “That makes me happy.”

“We have much to talk about.” Mellara says in a mumble, taking his hand onto his. “Much to plan. Much to say.”

“That can all wait.” Daemon says to her, shaking his head. “Our son, I would like to meet him.”

Mellara smiled. “He will be here soon. You will see him for yourself. He is you.”

“My, then he will be breaking hearts.” Daemon jested as he gazed at his wife. “He will grow up well, if he has your mind.”

“He will.” Mellara giggled at his words. “But most of all, he will grow happily loved by you and I. We will be complete.”

Daemon could not help but agree. “Yes, we will. I am sure of it.”

The gods gave man three chances at life, she thinks.

Her first wish was for her mother and father.

Her second wish was to be with her husband.

But the third, the third was for this happiness.