Chapter Text
As the only daughter of Prince Maekar Targaryen, you lived a life that most could only dream of. Every wildest wish of yours was granted by your father, whether it be a request for the finest Dornish ponies, jewels from the Shadow Lands of Asshai, or dresses made of Quarthian silk.
Your days were filled with nothing but pleasure; eating lemon cakes in the gardens, attending jousts to celebrate the name days of every brother and cousin, and shopping in the streets of King’s Landing.
You were beloved, pampered, and spoiled. But no one dared to comment on such a thing, because compared to your twin brother Aerion, you were a saint.
You were born only two minutes after him, and he spent the entirety of your lives reminding you of the fact that he was indeed older. You both had silver locks, violet eyes, and sharp faces that made you easily recognizable as members of House Targaryen. Aerion had a wicked temper, a cruel nature, and sometimes even acted on whims of insanity. Even your family members tried their very best to avoid him, unless absolutely necessary.
You were also easily provoked, although not quite in the same way that your brother was. Being told no was your least favorite thing to hear. Aerion viewed such a statement as a challenge, one that he responded to with threats and violence. When you were told no, you viewed it only as a temporary setback. There had not been a single time where you had failed to turn a no into a yes, whether that be through batting your eyes, pleading sweetly, or even occasionally enlisting your twin for help.
When your father broke the news of his plans for your betrothal to your cousin Valarr, he treaded rather carefully, knowing that he would be unable to bear the weight of your refusal. But to his shock, you told him that you would marry Valarr without protest. It was a fine marriage; as Valarr’s wife you would one day be Queen, you could remain close to your family, and your future husband was already known to you.
You were relieved that your father did not plan to marry you to Aerion. Your brother was beloved to you, but even you could admit that he had some serious flaws. He was quick to anger, violent, and often seemed bored around you. Aerion was devoted to you of course, but he made a much better brother than he would a husband. On the other hand, your cousin Valarr was gallant, patient, kind, and busy enough as second in line to the throne that you presumed he would have no time to worry about anything that you did. The two of you were wed within the fortnight, with a week of tourneys and jousting and feasts to celebrate, all at your request.
The impressions of Valarr that you held before your marriage had slowly started to crumble away as you spent more time with the man. He was indeed loving and charming, gentle to you on your wedding night and protective in every sense of the word. But perhaps because he had no sisters, he was not accustomed to the wants and needs of women in the way that your father and brothers were. When you requested to have a dozen new dresses made, he told you that three would suit your needs just fine. He moved the flagon out of your reach every night when he decided that you already had consumed enough wine. He did not allow you to roam the markets of King’s Landing in pursuit of new jewels, saying that you already had plenty and that buying anymore was simply frivolous.
To your even greater shock, he seemed to be immune to all of your tricks. Your pouting was met with dismissal, your pleas with distraction, and your threats to complain to your father with laughter. And you had complained to your father, who told you that it was out of his hands now that you were married. The only person who seemed to have any sympathy was Aerion, who snuck you more wine whenever you wished and would begrudgingly visit the stalls of your favorite jewelers on your behalf. Your husband was beginning to catch on, noticing that you were often more drunk at dinner than two glasses of wine could explain, that new necklaces and earrings seemed to appear everyday despite his limitation of your spending money, and that you no longer argued with him after being told no.
The breaking point happened one evening as you returned to your shared chambers, something Valarr had insisted upon when you were wed. You had spent the afternoon with your twin, drinking and laughing and reminiscing on the trip that you had taken to Pentos a few summers ago. The two of you had come up with a wonderful idea, another trip, this time to Lys. You would bring your three closest ladies along for your travels, a whole moon’s worth of shopping and shows and feasts and drinking in the Free City. Your brother had already written letters to a handful of nobles in Lys, offering them the honor of hosting a Targaryen Prince and Princess. The trip would be decadent, lavish, and certainly expensive. It would be best to frame the journey, to your husband, as one of diplomacy and education. You could run up his accounts once you were in Lys, blaming it all on Aerion and your ladies.
When you entered the chambers, giddy and giggling, you did not expect to see that Valarr was already there. He sat at his desk, brows furrowed as he flipped through a stack of parchment. You expected his expression to change once he noticed you, but he remained steadfast in his scowl.
“Good evening, wife. It appears that we must have a rather serious conversation.”
“Hmm. It is too warm and wonderful outside for anything serious. Have you been to the gardens as of late? There is a beautiful new orange tree, just planted this very day.” You flitted over to your dressing table, fluffing up your hair and reaching for a pot of rouge.
“No, I have not. I was too busy speaking with your father. He pulled me aside after supper, saying that I must meet with him in his study rather urgently. Would you like to guess why?”
“Important business, I am sure. You dipped your finger into the rouge pot, patting the color on your lips and cheeks. Valarr holds up one of the sheets of parchment so that you can see. It is written in your brother’s hand, and in his signature red ink.
“Your brother has requested a large amount of funds from Maekar. An excursion to Lys, detailed here. Apparently, the two of you have schemed to bankrupt your father in order to enjoy such an extravagant vacation that it would put the entire kingdom to shame!” You falter in your movements as Valarr waves the parchment wildly. Fuck, this was not the way that he was supposed to find out about the trip. “So of course, your father has requested that I cover half of the expenses, seeing as you are my wife. When were you planning on telling me about this ridiculous plan?”
“Well, it would not be that expensive. We only wish to strengthen the alliance between Lys and the Crown.” You smile at Valarr softly, widening your eyes in a way that has never failed you before.
“Not that expensive you say?” He is standing now, walking towards you with the stack of parchment in his hands. He shuffles through,stopping to point at a page where you see Aerion has begun to list your requests. “Fifty gold dragons for ship passage, a hundred for a stay at the Mermaid’s Daughter, thirty for wine alone, and an additional two hundred for various luxury goods! What does that even mean?”
“Shopping,” you tell him without missing a beat. You might have been better off to refrain from responding, seeing as he throws the parchment onto your dressing table and begins to shake his head.
“No. Absolutely not. You will not be going on this ridiculous trip, and I am astounded that you would even have the gall to request such a thing.” Your turn toward him, pouting as you stack your hands on your hips.
“But Valarr, try to understand! I have not yet been to Lys, and everyone says that you have not lived if you have not traveled there! Why don’t you speak to my father again, remind him that I am his only daughter and that I love him so. He might be willing to pay more if we offer to take Daeron along with us as well,” you suggest. These are both promising ideas, but Valarr will not even consider them.
“I have told you no, and that is final. Money aside, it is not proper for you to go gallivanting across the Free Cities, especially not in the way that Aerion has described here. Staying at brothels, visiting pleasure gardens; do you wish to shame me by acting with so little virtue? And how do you plan to avoid robbers and looters and all sorts of other criminals? There is nothing in here that mentions any sort of safety precautions.” The papers shuffle back and forth in his hands, and you swear that he grows angrier every time he glances across them.
“Well, all of the brothel stuff is Aerion’s doing. I will speak to him, convince him to cut back on some of those expenses.” Your husband is shaking his head as you speak, still looking quite bewildered. “And we will be safe! My brother is trained in combat, and we were considering inviting Lady Clasrissa’s cousin as well, the one who is a knight. But, that would of course be more costly, so you must decide how important safety is for you.”
“Gods, woman! Have you any idea how ridiculous you sound?” Valarr does not shout at you, but his tone is stern and accusatory. “If your father wishes to fund Aerion’s ludicrous lifestyle, then that is his business. But as your husband, I will not grant you my coin or my permission to do such a thing.” You approach him swiftly, grabbing at his hands gently in hopes of melting his heart.
“Please, husband. Do you not wish to please me?” You run your thumb along the inside of his wrist as you speak. “Is it not your duty to make me happy?”
“Not at the cost of emptying the Crown’s coffers. My decision is final. Forget this entire idea, and you will be all the happier for it.” Your initial reaction is a desire to shout at him, bang your fists against his chest, and wail until he gives in. Such a strategy would work on your brother, but you know that Valarr will not be so easily convinced.
“Fine. Let us talk about something else.” Valarr raises a brow, not quite believing that you would give up so easily.
“What do you wish to discuss?” He is sincere yet cautious, probably assuming that there is another thing you wish to ask him for. You run a hand along his bicep, gazing into his eyes longingly. If you know anything about men, it is that they are much more pliable when you are naked. Your other hand reaches around the back of his neck, fingers tangling through his tresses.
“Talk may have been the wrong descriptor. I think I meant to say fuck.” And with that, you close the distance between you and meet his lips in a passionate kiss. He embraces you quickly, his hands finding your waist as he accepts your kiss. You are certain that he can taste the wine on your lips, as you can taste the smoke on his. It has been several days since he last had you, which is most definitely to your advantage. He allows you to guide him backwards to the desk, straddling him and directing his fingers to the laces of your dress.
Valarr begins to kiss your neck, lips softly trailing from your ear to your collarbone. He stops when he reaches the necklace of gold and rubies, bought for you by Aerion earlier that very day.
“I do not believe I recognize this one,” he remarks. Your breath catches, and you guide his mouth back towards your neck in hopes that he will not linger on that thought. Instead, he nips at your ear, more specifically your new diamond earring. “Or these. Tell me, wherever did they come from?” His eyes pierce into yours, not quite accusatory but also not playful.
“I have had them for many years. Of course you do not recognize them; you are a man and men do not notice such things,” you snap at him. He studies your expression carefully for a moment, and you attempt to distract him by reaching behind your own back and attempting to undo your laces.
“Are you going to help me, or am I meant to undress myself?” Valarr responds by brushing away your hands and beginning to unlace you. Once you are free enough to do so, you quickly shimmy out of your dress and kick it to the floor, kissing Valarr wildly as you reach for the laces of his breeches. Breaking away from the kiss, you sink down to your knees in front of him, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you bat your eyes and protrude your lower lip. Your hands run up his thigh, and you wait until you feel him twitch to begin speaking.
“You know, if I were to go to Lys, I am sure that I would miss you greatly. When I return, I would be so filled with lust and longing that I would be rather insatiable. You could have me every hour of every day, in whichever way that you like.” Valarr is not a stupid man, and he realizes what you are doing. You pray that he is enough of a man to allow desire to overcome his reason.
“Hmm. I suppose that would be the case.” You nod your head, hooking your fingers into his waistband and pulling the fabric down past his knees.
“I find that I am rather insatiable whenever I return home after a long time away. Perhaps I might even buy a gift for you on my travels, something lacy that I could wear underneath my gown.” You rest your head against his bare thigh, gazing up at him longingly. He closes his eyes as he reaches down to grasp your hair, guiding your head toward his cock. You smile as you open part your lips, believing that you have won as you begin to take him in your mouth.
“But, it is a shame that we will never know, seeing as you will not be going to Lys.” You pull away from him immediately, frowning and pouting. Valarr laughs at you as he runs his fingers through your hair. “Nice try, my darling, but you mistake me for a weaker man.” You groan and slap his hand away from you.
“Oh, come on Valarr! There must be something I can do that will convince you to allow me this trip!”
“No, there is not. I have given you my decision, and it is final. You must learn to live with it.” You look at him with utter disgust as you quickly clamber off the ground, striding off angrily. You march over to the door, intent on leaving before you are stopped by Valarr, who has made quick work of pulling his pants back on. He blocks your way, placing a firm hand on the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He appears rather amused by all of this, as his eyes gleam and a smirk dances across his face.
“I am going to fetch my brother. Aerion will talk some sense into you.” The smirk disappears, quickly transforming into a frown.
“You wish to go crying to your brother, be my guest. But you will not bring him here into the privacy of our chambers. I may be duty-bound to suffer your whining, but you will not subject me to his. I will not indulge your every whim, and you would do well to stop behaving like a child.” You are angry now, furious that he has insulted both you and your brother.
“If you dare to cross me, then you cross Aerion as well. He will not be happy when he learns of how horribly you have treated me.” Your threat might scare an ordinary man, but Valarr is also a Targaryen Prince, and unfortunately for you he does not fear your brother in the way that so many do.
“Aerion, is not your husband. It is not up to him to decide how I choose to conduct our marriage. I have grown tired of discussing another man in my own bedchambers.”
“Well perhaps I should have married Aerion instead! He would not dare to deny me like you do! And he would be a much better husband, he is more fun and more clever and more daring than you will ever be!” You are shouting at him now, and you appear to have sparked anger in your husband as well. But he does not shout, and instead speaks to you coldly.
“You mistake my patience for weakness if you would dare to disrespect me by threatening me with your brother. Aerion may indulge you, but only because he will never face the consequences of doing so.” His hand has curled around your wrist, assertive but not yet punishing. “Do not go to him now. If you do, he will do nothing but stoke the flames of your anger. Nothing that you can convince him to say or do will change my mind.” You tear away from his grasp and duck underneath the arm that guards the door, yanking it away abruptly.
“I will do as I please. And you have enraged me so that perhaps I may truly let Aerion take your place as my husband. If not forever, then at least for tonight. At the very least, I know that he will fuck me better than you do.” The door has been pushed open and you already have one foot outside of it when Valarr’s strong arms grab you by the waist and pull you back in. He kicks the door closed as he pushes you up against the wall, all while you kick at his legs and shout at him to let you go. He covers your mouth with his hand, silencing you rather effectively.
“You dare to speak to your husband in such a way? If you wish to provoke me into jealousy, it will not work.” Valarr still does not appear to be angry with you; he is more so shocked by what you have done. He removes his hand slowly, allowing you to respond.
“Release me at once. I want to see my brother.” Valarr shakes his head, although his grip on you loosens slightly. And then, he does something that completely shocks you. He pins your hands above your head and begins to press kisses to your neck.
“No. You will learn to respect me, by one means or another.” His tongue darts out and traces your skin, hot and wet and sending shivers down your spine. “Tell me, do you think about Aerion whilst I am fucking you?” The question is not a rhetorical one, and he pauses his kisses as he waits for a response.
“Yes. All the time,” you snap at him. His lips find your collarbone and he begins to suck at it.
“Really? When my cock is inside of you and you are moaning and whining and begging me for more?” You nod your head, Valarr’s free hand working into the space between your back and the wall, tugging at the laces of your corset. “And when I have my fingers inside of you, making you shake and clench around them, do you think of your brother then too?”
“Yes.” Your voice is barely a whisper but he hears it nonetheless.
“What about when I am on my knees for you, licking your cunt until you cry. Aerion is the one on your mind?” He pulls your corset off, letting it drop to the ground.
“Yes,” you tell him for the third time. Valarr lifts his head slightly, pressing his lips to your ear as he reaches under your chemise to trace your bare thigh.
“I think that you are lying to me.” His other hand releases your arms, coming down to your neck to tug at your necklace. “Just like you lied to me about this.” His eyes meet yours, and you know that in this moment he sees you quite clearly. Your cheeks are flushed and you are trying your very hardest not to break eye contact, not wanting to reveal your guilt. “I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth.”
He is playing a game with you, something that is so unlike him. Truthfully, it excites you. Valarr is revealing a new side of him and you are curious to see how far he is willing to go.
“I haven’t lied about anything.” You dare to say. Valarr lifts you by your thighs, placing you on his desk in one swift movement. He drops to his knees, fire burning in his eyes as he lifts what little fabric remains on your body to rest above your waist. His strong hands spread your legs to him as he positions his head in between them.
“We’ll see about that.”
His tongue flattens against your clit with strong licks that begin to trace your folds. He devoured you in a way that quickly had you biting back moans. When he had done this before, he was always soft and slow and gentle. But this time, he held nothing back as he lapped at you aggressively. His lips find your clit and he begins to suckle at it, causing you to whine as the pleasure starts to build within you. Right as it is about to burst, Valarr pulls back.
“Still thinking about Aerion?”
“Yes,” you snap, angry at him for denying you. His hands squeeze your legs as he traces your thigh with kisses.
“That is a shame. I won’t let you peak if your thoughts are of another man.”
So, this is the route he means to take, bringing you close to the edge and denying you in hopes that you will become more pliable. You accept his challenge, pushing his head back toward your center. He continues his ministrations with his tongue, and you are very careful as to not moan his name the way that you usually would. His licks are firm and strong, making you quiver desperately. Once again, he stops as soon as the pleasure threatens to ignite. This time you cry out at the loss of contact, desperately trying to push his head back down. You can see your wetness coating his lips as he looks up at you.
“Are you ready to tell me the truth now?”
“Fuck you.” You shake your head and he laughs, a deep sound that echoes through the room. He returns to your cunt, this time adding his fingers into the mix. They thrust in and out of your heat, making a sinful noise as his tongue rubs against your clit. Quickly, you approach your peak for a third time. You shift your hips desperately, grinding against him in an attempt to chase your please. But he denies you yet again, causing tears of frustration to prick at your eyes.
“Admit that you were lying and I will let you finish.” His offer is sincere, but you force yourself to shake your head. Valarr uses his fingers to stroke the outside of your folds, causing you to shiver and twitch. “Come on darling, give in. I will do this all night if I must, but I would much rather watch you peak.” His fingers dip inside of you, pumping you slowly as they drag against your walls. Any restraint that you have left vanishes as he begins to stroke the spongy spot within you, causing heat to course through your veins.
“I was lying, Valarr. I was lying about Aerion; I only think of you, not him. Never him,” you admit desperately. Valarr has finally tamed you, and he smiles.
“A good start. What else?” You groan, tired of the questions and frustrated by his teasing. But when his movements inside of you stop, you speak once again.
“Aerion bought the necklace for me. Today. I told him to do it, to buy me something that would match my new red shoes.” Valarr appears to be satisfied with this last bit of candor, as he lowers his mouth to you once again. When you finally explode with pleasure, it is hot and fiery and overwhelming. His name is on your lips, a desperate plea that you repeat over and over as he coaxes you through your peak. Your hands pull roughly at his hair as your legs shake wildly.
“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He rises off his knees, stripping off his tunic as he finds your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue as he pulls your chemise up and over your head. “Get on the bed,” he tells you as he pulls away, making quick work of his last remaining article of clothing. You obey but your legs threaten to give out as you do so.
You sit at the edge of the bed when he approaches you, his cock hard and leaking. His fingers graze your neck softly before grasping at your necklace. You expect him to rip it from you, but instead he adjusts it slightly.
“You can keep this, I suppose. If only to serve as a reminder of my generosity,” he tells you. Valarr pushes you onto the bed so that you are lying, climbing on top of you and lining his cock up with your entrance. He kisses you once again as his tip brushes against your center.
“You are mine. Not Aerion’s, mine. My wife.” He speaks softly, although you know that his words hold a serious weight. When he finally enters you, your body immediately bends to his will. He lifts one of your legs, allowing him to go deeper as he kisses your neck.
“Valarr,” you moan as he fucks you, slowly but in a way meant to savor rather than tease. You thread your hands into his hair, tugging at the silver strands nestles behind his ear. He lets out a low groan when you do so, and the noise causes you to clench around him. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room. He presses a hand against your stomach, feeling where his cock is nestled inside of you. You whine and whimper as his thrusts become faster; the feeling is too much and you try to squirm away from him.
“It’s too much,” you tell him earnestly.
“Always complaints with you, never an expression of gratitude.” His strong hand presses your face away from his and into the pillow, silencing you as his lips graze your neck. “Take what I give you and be grateful for it.”
Valarr’s pace quickens once again, his hands holding your hips steady as he fucks you relentlessly. You cannot think of anything but the feeling of him inside of you, overwhelming your senses. When you begin to clench around him, Valarr groans deeply.
“Gods! My beautiful wife, my spoiled little princess,” he mumbles in your ear as he ruts into you rapidly. You feel his cock twitch inside of you as he stifles what sounds very much like a whimper by burying his face into your neck. Spurts of his thick, hot seed fill you as your husband guides your chin up towards his as to kiss your cheeks and lips once again.
Valarr slowly pulls out of you, his spend dripping from your cunt as he does so. He gently positions you on your back before pulling you to his chest, allowing you to rest on his knees as he caresses your hair. It takes a few minutes for coherent thoughts to return to you, but the first one that does cross your mind is that your husband is still naked. His sudden shift in demeanor had occurred over Aerion, not Lys. You turn your head slowly, pouting your lips and widening your eyes.
"What if you accompanied me to Lys? And, I cut the shopping expenses in half?” Valarr studies you silently for a moment, before the brow above his dark eye raises and a smile teases his lips.
Perhaps the trip is not fully out of the question.