chainedqueen | Open Post

Daemon rolls his eyes. "Stronger women than you have promised that. I won't build plans on things that cannot be guaranteed."

He falls back into bed, beckoning her to follow with a lazy roll of his wrist. "It will be safer for you there. The king needs order beaten into some lands, and he will be grateful for it."

She placed her hand on her stomach, hoping, praying, there was a child growing. When it was born and was a boy, he wouldn't question her determination. That insult didn't pass her notice. "It's not a promise." Her voice was sharp, but at the same time, she picked her fingers.

She considers not following him, but it would only be a punishment to them both.

That at least gave some comfort. It's true that the king often rewarded Daemon, even in his moments of chaos. "When do you mean to leave?"

"I wouldn't mind a daughter," he murmurs. A daughter, you can indulge. They seem easier to love. Viserys was in many ways wrong in his treatment of his; another way Daemon wishes to surpass his brother. "Though I'd like at least two sons as well. I don't expect those to come from nowhere. Your nights will be mine for some time."

Is this reassurance, or bragging? A bit of both. He holds her in his arms a moment, two, before deciding to indulge her. She'd wanted to learn from him, hadn't she? He had been lax in that, amongst all the preparation. So he rolls them both over, until she is atop him.

"Within a week. Corlys and his wife are our allies in this. At least one of our get should marry theirs."

He runs his fingers down her spine. "So we should hurry with the getting of them."

It was strange how matters shifted with Daemon. He was a whirlwind in many ways. One moment their conversation was torrential, the next languid and calm. What was strange as well was that she didn't very much mind it. Had she married Viserys, he would be kind and gentle, but much of her time would be caring for him and domestic matters.

There was excitement in things and people you can't predict. Such was her life now.

She smiled, settling astride on him, a bit more comfortable experimenting and learning something new. "If you mean to have every night until then, I should find new methods to entertain you." Her hand glided up his chest in tandem to the fingers down her spine. She clutched his throat in a soft vice, threatening something more. "The Hand is fighting for Laena Velaryon to marry the king. If we could have a son before that-" her smile spread to a grin. "Imagine it. You would thwart the council again."

Daemon grins. "Why do you think Corlys comes to me? He doesn't want his daughter wed to a man her grandsire's age."

He's starting to think himself something of an aid to maidens, keeping them out of the clutches of old men. This view of himself will persist until the moment it's inconvenient.

His hand moves over the side of her body, amused and aroused by the shape of her, the dark excitement on her face. His eyes flutter shut at her grip, relaxing into it, but his voice rasps out, "then give me a son."

There was talk in her family of darker magics that Hightowers had access to. Necromancy and alchemy, the magic that had once visited Oldtown and some knowledge left in return. Who could say what they Maesters held in the Citadel, but whatever was there, it was open to Hightowers. Perhaps she should investigate, find something to enhance her fertility, something to guarantee that she gave many, many children to Daemon. Most of them sons.

In this moment, astride him with her hand on his throat, she felt as if she could manage and manipulate such abilities. Perhaps he might even like that as well? A wife closer to Tyanna of the Tower rather than Ceryse Hightower.

"Would one of you men be willing to steal something from House Hightower?" She asked, that dark look returning to her eyes. She rocked against him, dragging her free hand down his chest. "I take it the Queen that Never Was wanted her daughter to marry Viserys?" Of course. "Be in me and I'll conceive our son."

"I had been trying all night," he whines, but does as said. A shift of his hips, the movement of his hands, pulling them together. He lets out a sigh of pure relief, choked as it is by her hands.

"You have you- hah- don't you have your own people, now?"

She shivers, giving his throat a squeeze the moment that they were joined. "Are you protesting the trying? I think you like debauching me twice a night." That he kept his word to her was still remarkable. If she could perhaps prove that she would give him a son first, he might have little reason to visit any other woman's bed. All he could want was here.

Her hips rocked, testing his response to her movements before setting a slow, languid pace.

"I have no spies like yours. This task is too important for novices."

"I do," he wheezes. His eyes stay closed, but the smile on his face is anything but unaware. Just a few teeth short of a snarl.

"What are you looking for, lady wife?"

"I need a book," which shouldn't be much of a surprise. "There is a book in the Citadel that could help me." Supposedly others have tried alchemy, but it always seemed to be nothing more than parlor tricks. With a limited access of books on the subject, it wasn't a surprise that sort of alchemy was more performance. The Hightowers though, there were papers kept, accounts by various members. She hadn't seen it with her own eyes, but she believed she knew where it would be.

"There's a collection of scrolls by older members of House Hightower, men who explored and studied alchemy, as well as other magics. It's locked in an black iron box and it should be in the archives of the Citadel."

She lifted his hand, guiding it over her breasts and curves, encouraging him to touch and explore.

He begins to move his hips more forcefully, excited, as always, by talks of ambition. "You'll have it." In this moment, rutting with her, everything seems potentially possible. "Inheritance-- hah-- for our children."

So she is the daughter of a second son. Who cares? She is highest among her family, now. All that they have, she deserves.

That simple promise has her giddy and excited, promises of information that were long denied to her. For once in her life, reading books wouldn't be for her father's end, but for her own accumulation of power. If it served her well, it could belong to their children as well.

She grinned, gripping his shoulder tight as she moved more quickly, matching his energy and enthusiasm. "Our children will have dragon magic and further magic." They would command dragons, perhaps have dragon dreams? They may create substances to use in battle or to give them strength? Or perhaps create monsters like Tyanna of the Tower?"

Further magic? He stows the idea away for later, potentially troubling but worth consideration. He's too distracted, anyway, by the shape of her around him, atop him, her softness and the sound of her voice.

"You'll have it, you'll, ahh, you will," it's all mindless murmuring, the sort he can usually keep back. He'd only indulged in such total lust with Myseria, someone he could trust. Could he trust Alicent? She seemed to demand it, regardless of whether it was wise.

This is a unique moment. Atop him, moving at a quick gallop, she felt as if she possessed further magic. This wasn't a situation to abuse or exploit. There was little to ask of him as it was, but more than that, she wanted him to trust her. She was his closest ally and it seemed he was starting to understand that.

Heat was rising in her, forceful flames that left her trembling in anticipation. Like this, she wasn't the shrinking daughter of the Hand. She was sensual, powerful and addicting. Perhaps his mindless murmurings were a sign that she was starting to have an affect on him in some ways. This sort of lust, it needed to be encouraged.

"Touch me."

His hands move over her, happy to follow that command. He can heed, when it benefits him. He watches her, watching him. "Any you worried you wouldn't enjoy, heh, wouldn't enjoy this?"

Every maiden does.

"I had a suspicion I would." She had wanted him that first time in the council room. Now after nightly practice, she was feeling far more at ease at what to do and how to please him. Even in the ways other maidens might shrink from. Everyone wants to feel wanted.

"Did you think it would be a chore, keeping your promise?"

His grin is crooked, and as always, has too many teeth. He bucks his hips up, trying to get a reaction from her. "It's always a possibility."

She gasps at the buck, it's a reaction he earns by catching her off guard. "You take precautions for possibilities." Too many teeth and too few scruples. One could only guess what he'd do if she had been boring.

His hands find the space between her legs, touching and petting as his hips buck. He wants more of that.

"I enjoy winning." He enjoys winning her.

A shiver runs up her spine. He's become quite good at knowing where to touch since the night of the fete. It doesn't take long before she's bucking, mewling, struggling for air, her pace far more harsh than before. The Others take his eyes for being so good at this.

"What-" she gasped again, "what makes you...think you've won?"

As far as he's concerned, that's just an invitation. He rolls over on the bed, taking her with him. With her underneath, the angle is better for him, his hips move with more purpose, stronger. He wants to hear her scream. "Guesswork, mostly."

There's not much that doesn't seem to be an invitation for him. It isn't as if she's ignorant to his aim here, but as she's benefitting from this challenge, she wasn't about to hold back on him. However mounting the pressure was, there was always some aspect of performance for Daemon.

"I wouldn't celebrate too soon or victory might be taken from you."

He turns his head to bite at her throat again, worrying the spot that never has time to heal. "I said, I wouldn't mind a daughter."

If he wasn't biting her or moving deeply in her, she might be touched by that sentiment. As it is, she's concentrating on words as best she can, all wrapping her legs around him and digging her frayed nails into his back.

"A Daenys or an Alyssa?"

Not ambitious enough. Daemon thinks of the child he is trying to put into Alicent, and the name comes to him instantly. "Valaena."

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