Dragonlance, Chapter 5: Riders and Rulers

Eleventh Moon, 169 AC

Daeron

Even now, months after it had all happened, I was still in immense disbelief that I had even found myself in this situation. How had it even come to this? No seriously, how.

I had started out my new life as Daeron II with one key goal in mind. I would make Daena fall in love with me and take her as my wife, possibly getting Daemon Blackfyre as our heir after Baelor hopefully died just like in canon as a result of the scandal. I would then place Daena on the throne and rule beside her as her King Consort to bypass the rule of my unworthy father altogether, avoiding the Dornish marriage and the Blackfyre Rebellions both and maybe one day we would find a way to get back dragons.

The plan had not survived first contact. Elaena had apparently been in love with me for the longest time and like some cliché dense protagonist, I had failed to notice that. She had confronted Daena in a jealous rage and that encounter had somehow ended up in the pair deciding to share me between them.

In all honesty, I had known that things would become a huge mess the moment I had found Elaena waiting for me beside her sister in Daena’s room that fateful day but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to say no. I dared any honest, hot-blooded man to say they would act differently when offered the chance to bed not just one but two extremely hot Targaryen princesses.

I cared for Daena deeply of course and had never wanted to cheat on her, but if she herself offered up her own sister to me on a silver platter and got off watching like a cuckquean in denial, who was I to say no? I had ultimately chosen to pursue Daena over Elaena only due to my political goals. The chance to have them both was something I had only ever dreamed of, something I couldn’t let slip through my fingers when they had offered it to me. They were both so attractive, both in looks and personality, that the idea both of them loved me and were willing to share me was like a fever dream.

So yes. I had accepted the offer. I had silenced all my private worries about the mess it would create and did my best not think about what would happen if both of them got pregnant. Something I knew every straight man that had been in my place would have done, whether they admitted it or not.

I should have realized things were becoming too wild though, too good to be true, when we added Rhaena about a week and a half after Elaena. We’d found her masturbating as she peeped on us, almost exactly like the stereotype of the repressed religious girl or the voyeuristic nun with the freaky side. And then, because of course they did, Daena and Elaena had invited her to join us, finding pleasure and amusement in corrupting their pious sister and breaking down the barriers of her own religiously kept chastity to release the lustful wanton slut that lied beneath.

And as the horny bastard that I was, I had gone along with their wishes because who wouldn’t want to have another hot Targaryen princess to seduce and fuck, with the added bonus kink of corrupting a pious religious girl into my wanton little sex pet.

It made me feel guilty sometimes, especially when I remembered how Aegon had clapped me on the back and told me how ‘proud’ of me he was, something that had almost made me die inside as I wondered if I really was that different from him.

I had indulged in my lust, kicking the can down the road for future me to resolve. Well jokes on me, I was future me now and I had to deal with the consequences of my own actions.

Still, despite my self-deprecation, it wasn’t all that bad. I might have proven myself a horny bastard just like my father, but I still had some respectability. Despite having accumulated a harem of sorts for myself, I was limiting myself to three women and I had full intentions to remain faithful to them and not cheat on them, unlike all the humiliation my mother had endured for decades from my father’s ceaseless affairs and mistresses.

I also genuinely did love and care for all three of my lovers. They were all so different yet so loveable in their own way. Daena was fiery, daring, and athletic. Rhaena was meek, homely, and buxom. And Elaena was so petite, cute, and clever.

There were so many things I could talk about that I could probably write a novel just from describing everything I loved about the three them. It was almost funny how things had played out this way. I had just wanted to avoid the Martell match and the Blackfyre Rebellions and I had ended up lucky enough to fall in love with three sisters who loved me back and wanted to share me.

I owed it to them to do right by them, to take care of them and protect them. I had accepted the lewd, almost porn-like scenarios that had gotten me in bed with all three of them eagerly. Now it was time to take responsibility for them and the children they carried. My children.

For a long time, ever since I had realized that all three were with child and we were exposed, I had worried about what the future might hold for us. My worst nightmare was being forced to choose between the three ultimately. To only be allowed to marry one, while the other two were forced into the humiliation of mothering bastards before being shipped off to the Faith or some old noble dickhead lord who would mistreat them for being ‘used goods’.

I refused to accept that future. Just imagining how Rhaena would continue tormenting herself for succumbing to sin and having a bastard if we weren’t allowed to marry made me wince. Simply thinking of how much Elaena would cry if she lost me yet again made my heart break. I couldn’t stand it. I would not allow that future to happen, no matter what.

Fortunately, some things had at least gone according to plan. Just like he had in canon, Baelor had prayed and fasted himself to death when our affair was exposed (and even now with how serious the situation was, I couldn’t help but smile a little at the idea that I had cucked Baelor to death). The best part of all however, was that my long-shot hope of hatching dragon eggs on his funeral pyre had succeeded against all odds.

It shouldn’t have even happened. There was no red comet in the sky or prophetic dreams like Dany had had, nor was there any mass sacrifice or act of blood magic. And who knew what the Maesters or Dragonbane had done to the eggs. But maybe because it had just been a mere sixteen years since the last dragon had died compared to a century and a half for Dany, or maybe because the fire and Valyrian blood sacrificed from the pyre of a Targaryen king had been just enough, my desperate far-fetched plan had actually worked.

While Daena and everyone else had still been frozen in shock, I had immediately sprung into action, running forward to take the hatchlings into my arms before Aegon or anyone else could. I had given Daena, Rhaena, and Elaena the dragons that had hatched from their eggs, the dragons that were rightfully theirs, and claimed the dragon that had hatched from Baelor’s egg for my own. Aegon had sulked about that but it was over and done with. He could cry about it for all I cared.

I did feel a little bad for denying the dragons to the rest of the family, but my goals required prioritizing the dragons for myself and my lovers. Maybe in the future, if any more eggs were laid or hatched, we could give dragons to Viserys, Aemon, and Naerys too, but until then, they would be restricted to just the four of us and we had already cemented our claim by naming them.

Elaena had fondly named her dragon Artaxes, a proud name from Valyrian histories. Much like its egg, it had the same colors as Elaena’s hair, being a mostly stunning platinum white but with bright gold accents, wing membranes, claws, and horns.

Rhaena’s dragon was mostly purple but it had green eyes and orange pinkish-gold accents, claws, horns, and wing membranes. She had named it Starfyre, no doubt for her faith, but I couldn’t help but notice the resemblance in the dragon’s coloration to a comic book character I had known in my first life with the same name.

Daena’s dragon was dark blue with red accents, horns, claws, and belly scales. As if Tessarion the Blue Queen had come back to life but with crimson red instead of beaten copper as her secondary color, as the rest of the dragon’s scales were near the exact same shade of dark blue as Tessarion’s had been. Its coloration was basically what Optimus Prime would look like as a dragon but no one else in this world would know that reference.

She had named the dragon Daeral, for her beloved brother but most especially for me, she had told me. Just thinking about that still brought a warm fuzzy feeling to my chest.

As for me, I chose to name my dragon Paarthurnax. The name’s ending letters made it sound suitably Valyrian but it was also a fun inside reference to me for a dragon I had deeply admired in a game I had once played (fuck you Delphine, I never killed him and you should be ashamed of yourself for asking). It helped that my dragon’s coloration also reminded me of Paarthurnax in a way, with blue-green copper scales and wings and tan and yellow accents.

I could only hope that one day, my dragon would become as wizened and old as Paarthurnax was, even if I highly doubted it would ever learn to speak words of wisdom… or speak at all.

In any case, the fact that it had hatched from Baelor’s egg was even funnier. I had effectively cucked Baelor out of not just his ex-wife and sisters but his dragon too. And if I had my way, I would add the throne and the Dornish peace plan both to that list.

The dragons changed everything. The entire calculus and power dynamic inside our house had been completely flipped over the table, and everyone knew it. That was why, when my grandfather had called for a private family meeting after the shock of the dragons hatching had subsided just a little, I knew I had to strike immediately before he had had a chance to regain his bearings.

Uncle Aemon and the other six Kingsguard dutifully stood guard and took the watch as we all entered the room my grandfather had booked the meeting. As soon as we all took our seats, I immediately made my opening move.

“I will be marrying Daena, Rhaena, and Elaena. All three of them,” I said firmly.

It was not a request or an option placed on the table for consideration. It was a declaration, a nonnegotiable demand, pure and simple.

The silence in the room was deafening right up until Aegon burst out laughing. I had to crush the annoyance rising in my chest. The fucker had been doing that a lot lately and it grated. Aemon and the rest of the Kingsguard remained dutifully silent and my poor mother looked scandalized but my eyes were fixed on the women I loved.

All three of them looked to me in surprise. Their expressions were a confusingly eclectic mix of shock, gratitude, and love writ all over their faces and I let my expression soften tenderly.

“If they’ll have me, of course,” I added with a smile.

Rhaena almost looked as if she wanted to faint, though from what I wasn’t sure. Elaena scowled with tears in her eyes as Daena punched me in the arm lightly, seeming to speak for all three of them when she answered, “Of course we’ll have you, you dolt. You’ve ruined us for all other men. We’re carrying your babes in our bellies. Who else would we rather have?”

My mother finally gained her courage to speak up then as she addressed my grandfather. “Surely you won’t let this happen Father? Polygamy is outlawed by the laws of the kingdom! No Targaryen has practiced it since Maegor and we all know how it ended for him! The Faith won’t stand for it.”

I did my best to leash my burgeoning anger. I loved my new mother, I really did. Naerys did not deserve marriage to Aegon of all people. But in times like this I was reminded just how annoying her piety was, it reminded me far too much of Baelor.

“I would suggest you refresh your memory on the exact text of the Doctrine of Exceptionalism, Mother. Nowhere was it ever stated that polygamy is forbidden. In fact, the wording of the doctrine explicitly allows Valyrian wedding customs for our house due to our dragons. Just because none has ever practiced polygamy since Maegor does not mean it is forbidden and if the Faith has an issue with that, they can take it up with our dragons,” I said firmly.

“Hatchling dragons not even a full day old, Daeron!” my mother protested.

“Aye. And they hatched on the funeral pyre of Baelor the Blessed himself. A reward by the Seven for his piety, many would argue. And how would the Faith, led by their child High Septon appointed by Baelor in the sept Baelor built, argue any differently?”

I turned to my grandfather next, realizing that he had yet to speak throughout the entire meeting. The expression on his face was unreadable; the usual stern mask of stone I had come to associate with him. Nonetheless I tried to argue in the logical deduction I knew would be most convincing for him.

“More seriously than all of that, Grandfather. The girls and I all have dragons. Uncle Aemon is in the Kingsguard, my father is already wed to my mother, and you are much older than they are, no offense, and I doubt you have any interest in remarrying. They carry my children; I should be the one to marry them all and ensure they and their dragons stay inside our house. If not, we risk another house gaining dragons before we have even fully restored them to our own.”

My grandfather sighed. “You don’t need to convince me, Daeron. I had already agreed the moment the dragons hatched and the four of you claimed them. You are right. The dragons must remain in our house and we have the influence and justifications needed to convince the Faith. Still, your mother has a point. I don’t anticipate it being a very fun conversation to have with the Most Devout.”

“It won’t be, no. But it has to be done.”

My grandfather shook his head and groused. “Just my luck that my first act as King will be cleaning up my grandson’s mess.”

At that, the room once again fell silent. Daena spoke up first.

“And what exactly, makes you so certain that you are King, Uncle?” she asked.

All of us could feel the tension in the room. It sat on a knife’s edge. My grandfather grimaced before answering.

“Precedent. Jaehaerys inherited before Aerea. He named Baelon heir before Rhaenys and the Great Council ratified his decision when they chose Viserys I as King instead of Laenor Velaryon. Every time the male-line heir was chosen, because he was older, more respected and capable. I have served this realm as Hand of the King for nigh over thirty years while you have been isolated away from it for almost a decade, Daena.

“You’ve destroyed your reputation with all your wild actions and you would be birthing a bastard if my grandson hadn’t decided to break his betrothal and marry you. Perhaps most unfortunately of all for your claim, you are a woman. Whether that is fair or not has never mattered. The lords will not respect you as their ruler, they will not obey your commands. House Targaryen is weaker than it has ever been after your brother’s misrule, it will not survive having you as Queen.”

To her credit, my dear Daena did not react with anger or outrage. She seemed to even acknowledge Viserys’ points before simply replying, “I have a dragon.”

“A hatchling dragon as we established earlier,” Viserys said dismissively, “One that is already being used to justify your polygamous marriage, niece. There is only so far we can push the realm before it snaps. We cannot take the risk.”

“Exactly what risk do you believe there to be Uncle? Let the lords defy me if they dare. My dragon will reach maturity in due time and once that comes to pass, they shall all rue their defiance,” Daena declared boldly.

My grandfather only smiled sadly. “My mother once thought as you do.”

“And is she not a precedent justifying my own ascendance? Was she not named heir by your namesake? Did not half the realm rise to defend her rights?” Daena challenged.

“And what good did that bring her!?” Viserys demanded with an uncharacteristic anger, stunning the entire room as his fist pounded on the table.

“Half the realm rose for her and she died anyway! And so did everyone else! My father, my brothers, Aunt Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, all of them!” he shouted, his voice almost breaking as he stumbled over those he had loved and lost. “That’s what will happen if you become Queen, Daena. Is that what you want? Do you want to usher in a new era of war and destruction that will take half of our family from us all over again?” he demanded.

For the first time, I and everyone else could see the truth of Viserys Targaryen peeking out just beneath the cracks in the mask, the shadow of the lonely grieving man that had lost almost everything and everyone he had ever cared for in the most horrible ways imaginable.

“Grandfather,” I began carefully. “I understand your concerns. But Daena is not Rhaenyra. She is not taking the throne from her brothers. She is inheriting it from them. This is not some unheard-of wild scheme, it is the law of the land, of all the lords you say will oppose it. It is the ancestral custom of our own house before we started letting ourselves be swayed by the prejudices of lesser men. Consider the breach from primogeniture that would do far more to cause the future wars you so fear than making Daena Queen.

“What breach from primogeniture? You are marrying her Daeron, and one day you will inevitably be King and her your Queen Consort. The lines are united,” his grandfather retorted.

“That argument works just as well if she was Queen and I her consort. Who could the realm possibly rally around as a claimant against Daena if you support her as Hand and I your grandson wed her? At least this way we would reinforce the primacy of primogeniture and ensure future rulers need never deal with the problems Jaehaerys faced with Aerea or Viserys I with the Velaryons, should competing lines ever end up not united by marriage.

“Consider this as well, Grandfather. You say the throne should be yours because you are the capable, experienced male heir while Daena is an inexperienced young woman. Yet think and remember what happened the last time that calculation was made. When Jaehaerys named Baelon heir over Rhaenys, he opened the door for a far more unworthy candidate to take the throne than either Baelon or Rhaenys, one that caused the most devastating war our family has ever known. Who’s to say that won’t happen again?”

I did not say it directly, but it seemed that everyone in the room could guess what I was alluding to. For the first time in the entire conversation, the insufferable smirk was wiped off Aegon’s face as he narrowed his eyes at me.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“I was merely making a historical observation, Father. I don’t know why you’re taking it so personally. Unless, of course, you have something you would like to share with the rest of us?”

Aegon snarled. “Why you little –“

“Enough!” Viserys shut down the argument with all the firmness of a king. And even though I was trying to convince him not to become King, I couldn’t deny that he would be a very good one as I saw how he commanded the room with ease.

Yet as soon as the room quieted, it was as if all the strength flowed out of Viserys and he looked more defeated that I had ever seen him before.

“Have none of you ever wondered why Aegon and I never changed the histories? Never once changed the annals to acknowledge our own mother as Queen instead of a princess grasping for a throne that was not hers? Even now, the Usurper is recorded in the histories as King Aegon, the Second of His Name, and my brother remains the Third.

“We both knew that changing it would have been pointless. Changing it would have caused unrest and possibly even another war and for what? The Greens were right at the end of the day. My grandfather should have never named my mother heir, never have gone against all the precedents that had made him King to begin with. I rue the day he did. If he hadn’t, perhaps my mother and everyone else who died in the Dance might have lived long and fulfilling lives.

“I hear your arguments, Daeron. But I would not bend from my convictions even to restore my mother’s memory. I will not for you or Daena either. My final answer is no. I will be King, and one day you will reign in my place after your father, with Daena and all your other wives by your side. That is already more than anyone in your position should have any right to expect. Satisfy yourself with it and stop being greedy.”

I wasn’t ready to give up yet though. I still had a few more arguments up my sleeve that I thought might just convince my grandfather, especially with all his fears of another Dance. Before I could say anything however, Daena interjected.

“Crown Daeron then,” she declared.

We all turned to her in surprised confusion but she only doubled down, facing my grandfather with righteous anger and determination ablaze in her eyes.

“You say it’s too risky for me to become Queen, that you are insistent on there being a King to placate the lords. So be it then. But it can’t be you or Aegon. Crown Daeron in both of our places, Uncle, and I will relent.”

I couldn’t even believe what I was hearing. Where on earth had this idea even come from??

“Why not go for it? You’d still have everything you could possibly want, your line on the throne and a male ruler to sate your fears of strife,” Daena continued.

My grandfather did something then that none of us would have ever expected. He laughed. Viserys Targaryen, youngest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, always seen as shorter and less handsome and sterner even than his melancholic brother since his wife had left him, laughed. It was not a long or debilitating laugh, but it was a full-bodied laugh the likes of which none of them had ever seen from the serious Hand.

“That was truly amusing, niece. I appreciate it. But enough of these japes. How exactly do you intend to justify bypassing not just yourself and your sisters but I and Aegon as well in the primogeniture Daeron himself holds so sacred?” he asked.

“Jure uxoris,” Elaena spoke up. “By right of wife. By marrying Daena, combined with his own strong claim to the throne in the male line through you Uncle, he could become King. There is sufficient precedent for it in history. Orys Baratheon married Argella Durrandon to strengthen his claim on the Stormlands, and Joffrey Lydden was crowned King Joffrey Lannister as he had married the only child and daughter of the previous King of the Rock,” she explained with all the meticulous detail of someone who had done naught but read for the past eight years.

Viserys actually seemed to consider it. “I can see an argument for it being made but I still cannot see the point of it. It just feels unnecessarily messy when Daeron would become King either way as my only grandson. So please tell me Daena, why are you willing to yield your claim to Daeron but not me?”

“If you become King, it would be decades until both you and Aegon die. Far too much can happen in that time for comfort. Daeron and my sisters are the only people in this room that I trust to have any kind of power over me. The rest of you just watched as Baelor locked us away and imprisoned us in a vault like something to be ashamed of. Giving token protests as meaningless as the wind that carried them. Daeron alone did something about it. He gave us hope and comfort in our imprisonment, he was the light in our darkest hours. He is our savior.

“So yes, Uncle. If I cannot be Queen in my own right, then I would have Daeron as King instead of letting it pass to you. Any other outcome would leave me… discontent. And no matter how much you try and dismiss it, my dragon will grow, and a discontent dragonrider is something you do not want to deal with,” Daena warned.

For a while there was an impasse between Daena and Viserys, neither one willing to back down before finally, my grandfather yielded.

“Very well.”

“Father! You can’t be entertaining this farce!” Aegon protested.

“Silence Aegon. Even after proving himself every inch your offspring, Daeron would still be ten times the king you could ever be,” he barked, cutting down his son’s protests instantly.

“The question now is if he will accept the crown offered to him,” he said and all eyes turned to me.

I for my part was still struggling to understand how things had come to this point. I had gone into this meeting intent on one thing, ensuring Aegon never got the throne, no matter what. All along the obvious path to that had been to crown Daena and bypass him altogether. I had never once expected to be practically gift wrapped the throne on a silver platter but now that it was offered to me so readily, I couldn’t really do anything but accept… with one addendum that is.

“I accept, on one condition. Daena should be crowned alongside me, not as Queen Consort, but as my co-ruler and Queen in her own name. We will rule jointly, as Aegon and Elaena, the children of Gaemon the Glorious did. If I reign as King by right of wife, that wife should also reign, at least officially, in order to stabilize the line of succession and ensure that Daena’s children will always be considered senior to Rhaena and Elaena’s, both of whom would remain Princesses instead of becoming Queen Consorts,” I explained.

I had started thinking of the idea ever since it was first proposed that I become King jure uxoris. I had taken a lot of inspiration from cases I remembered in my first life, like Isabella and Ferdinand the Catholic of Spain, and especially William III and Mary II of England. It was the best solution I thought, even if the idea of both a reigning King and Queen felt messy, it was the easiest way in my mind to satisfy all the parties involved.

If only it didn’t marginalize Rhaena and Elaena. Yet it had to be done or else I would reign as a King with three Queen Consorts and the succession would follow through me while a competing, more traditional line of primogeniture succession proceeded through Daena. If things didn’t work out perfectly between our children and grandchildren, I could easily envision some kind of Wars of the Roses scenario developing from there that would be an even greater nightmare than the Blackfyre Rebellions.

Even so, that did not ease my guilt. I could not help but look apologetically to Rhaena and Elaena. I had promised to marry all three of them and by doing so, implicitly declared that I would treat them all equally instead of taking Daena as my wife and the two of them as mistresses on the side. Yet here I was now elevating their elder sister above them so sharply.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Rhaena did not look upset in the slightest. “I’m just happy to be your wife, Daeron. It has always been the way of the world that the younger sibling defers to the elder. If Daena becomes Queen and I remain a Princess, so be it. I have already gotten what I truly want.”

There was a more pained look in Elaena’s face however, as if she was swallowing a bitter pill that even now, she remained second to Daena. I tried to convey to her that this in no way indicated that she was any lesser in my heart, where it really mattered. That it was simply what had to be done to ensure the stability of the succession but it did not feel like it truly sunk in for her. She only told me mutely that she understood and would say no more.

I sighed. I would have to find a way to make it up to her and make her truly understand what all of this was for later. I turned back to my grandfather and continued.

“Our joint rule will be known as that of Daeron and Daena. I the Second of His Name and she the First. As the male, and an aspiring knight in training, I will take up the position of Protector of the Realm to oversee the kingdom’s military matters but we shall otherwise be fully equal in our titles. Though, the Kingsguard and the Hand of the King will remain as such and not be changed to Queen to avoid confusion and any negative connotations associated with Rhaenyra,” I elaborated, before addressing Daena.

“So long as all of this is acceptable to you?” I asked.

Daena looked stunned as she tried to muster up the words to reply. “Acceptable? I gave up on the throne entirely to you and then you offered half of it right back to me. I’d accept anything you say at this point, Daeron.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the raw amazement and love bordering on worship in Daena’s eyes though I noted that a part of her was also worried about how her sisters were taking it. We would need to work together to smoothen over those rough edges after the meeting.

“It is settled then,” my grandfather said, resignation and finality in his voice.

“It is,” Daena replied.

At that moment, the Kingsguard, led by Aemon, took up the proclamation:

“The king is dead! Long live the king and queen!”

“Long live the king and queen,” Viserys declared more reservedly while Aegon just sulked and Naerys seemed to still be unhappy about me marrying three women.

My grandfather turned to me then. “Now we just need to negotiate with the Faith for your joint coronation and polygamous wedding, Your Grace.”

I had a feeling he was mocking me, ever so slightly, but I’d let him have it just this once. We had just convinced him to yield the throne after scandalizing the entire realm with the most obscene series of events seen in a generation.

“Think of the bright side, Grandfather. At least we can still use most of my wedding preparations. We just need to change the name of the bride on the invites,” I japed.

____________________________________

Sometime later, I was inside my private quarters, still trying to process that I would soon be crowned as the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. It had always been a title that I had sufficient reason to expect I would one day hold if I failed to make Daena Queen but not like this. Not this soon.

I had succeeded in my ultimate goal. Viserys and Aegon would never become King and the ordinals of Viserys II and Aegon IV would now perhaps go to other kings eventually, kings that would no doubt be remembered for drastically different things. Daena was Queen in her own right, but my role was greatly altered from what I had envisioned.

Initially, I had planned to be Daena’s King Consort and Protector of the Realm, and once Viserys either retired or died, Hand of the Queen. Instead, I was her co-monarch, her equal in every way, and many in Westeros would no doubt see me as the true ruler instead of her. I was the male after all, the one who would lead the military in times of crisis, the Protector of the Realm. And as her lord husband, Westerosi customs and traditions dictated that she deferred to me.

It was, on paper at least, the perfect compromise. Daena still got to be Queen, primogeniture and the proper line of succession were maintained for once, and the sexist martial-minded lords of Westeros were appeased that they still had a King and the reminders of Rhaenyra were silenced with institutions remaining that of the King instead of the Queen.

I had gone into all of this with the intention of making Daena the sole Queen, forcibly restraining myself from any desire to sit the throne directly so that I could deny it to Aegon IV. Yet now that fortune had delivered the throne into my hands anyway, I couldn’t help but admit I was glad for it.

Rare were the men who would turn down such power and most of those who claimed they would were posturing pretenders. I had humbled my own ambitions for a greater cause and been rewarded for it. Perhaps this was arrogant of me to say, but Westeros was better off for it.

Some of the greatest rulers in history, both on Earth and in Westeros, had been co-monarchs either in name or in practice. Isabella and Ferdinand of Spain, William and Mary of England, Jaehaerys and Alysanne, Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys, the list went on and on. When it worked, it really worked. The ruling couples (or trios) would complement each other and cover each other’s weaknesses, dividing up a job meant for one person amongst two or more and greatly increasing their efficiency.

Of course, when it failed, it really failed. Phillip II of Spain and Mary I of England were just one example that came to mind and of course, Aegon and Visenya and Jaehaerys and Alysanne had inevitably grown estranged, but I had faith that Daena and I would not end up the same way.

She would not soon forget that I had been the one to save her from the Maidenvault. That I had been offered the chance to rule as the sole King, by herself no less, and had included her as my co-ruler instead of consort anyway.

Perhaps it was wrong of me to think this, but I couldn’t help but feel that this outcome was better than my original hopes of making Daena the sole Queen. At least this way, I had power by law to moderate anything she did if needed rather than trying to influence her solely as her consort.

I didn’t want to think of it that way, but part of me knew all too well that my grandfather was right when he had criticized Daena’s ability to rule. Even ignoring how her sex would weaken her image as a ruler amongst the deeply conservative nobility, Daena was exceedingly inexperienced and even worse, she was quick to anger and irrational actions when something truly irked her, all fiery and reckless. Not exactly the kind of person that would make an ideal ruler.

And yet despite knowing that, I had still championed her rights so intensively and even gone out of my way to restore them to her when I was given the throne outright instead of her.

Part of that was my absolutely unshakable belief in the importance of primogeniture. It was the single most stable succession method known for monarchies and breaches away from it rarely ended well. As long as the monarch wasn’t terrible, I would still prefer them to rule over a much more competent cousin.

A string of mediocre rulers who rightfully inherited their thrones by the proper line of succession and kept the peace in the process was far better for a country and its people than a hypercompetent and capable usurper seizing the throne only to cast the realm into a civil war each time a ruler died because of the precedent it set. The Roman Empire could very much attest to that and the Wars of the Roses traced their roots back to precisely that origin, when Richard II had been deposed by his cousin, Henry Bolingbroke, who was not even the next in line to the throne at least.

Granted, there were limits to this. Sometimes the rulers were just that bad that they had to go, primogeniture be damned. Those included folks like Aegon IV or Aerys II and I was fortunate in my case that I could follow the proper line of primogeniture and deny Aegon the throne by doing so.

Beyond this however, my motivations were much more sentimental. For all her faults and flaws, I cared for Daena and I wanted to restore to her, if only in part, what was rightfully hers. Her flaws might have made her less ideal of a ruler, but they made her so much more human and real. She had long since stopped being a character in a book to me. She was a living, breathing person. With real fears and insecurities, real hopes and dreams. And I loved her.

I loved all of them, I thought, as my three wives-to-be entered my quarters. My eyes roamed over each of them in turn, taking in every detail of them I could.

They had all taken to pregnancy like a fish to water in my lovestruck opinion, their adult bodies perfectly adapting and adjusting to the changes it had brought in a way a younger girl’s might not have. Their curves had become more pronounced, their breasts and lips fuller, and they carried themselves with a certain grace and sensualness that made them even more radiant in my eyes. They were just all so beautiful, each in their own unique way.

Daena was tall and proud, her silver-gold curls were wild and loose. She had a big bright smile on her face that was almost daring me to kiss her as it lit up her eyes, those sparkling purple eyes that were so normally ablaze with mischief but now resonated with only gratitude and love. Even now, after pregnancy had started showing, her body retained some of its lithe athletic build and toned muscles. I had little doubt that she would return to her active lifestyle as soon as she could after giving birth, much like our ancestor Alyssa had.

Rhaena was about an inch shorter than Daena, her hair more gold than silver, and worn in a carefully combed coif that I loved to mess up and set loose as much as I did Rhaena herself. There was a shy, sweet smile on her face, the kind the blushing maiden would give her charming knight in all the tales, the smile of a girl swooning over her love. Her eyes were kind and filled with as much if not more devotion than Daena’s.

Elaena was the shortest of them all, thin and petite where her sisters were tall and buxom, yet that only made her more adorable and cuter than they were. Her eyes were a soft lilac that I could get lost for hours in, and her hair was stunning and unique even for our family. Platinum white and gold, a crowning beauty she had once shorn short to spite Baelor yet now fell down to her shoulders as she tried to grow it out.

I knew why that was. My heart sank as I looked at the hurt expression in her eyes and I knew I would do anything I could to take away her pain, the pain I had inadvertently caused her.

I was a lucky son of a bitch (the bitch being Aegon of course). I was more fortunate than I had any right to be, that I had the love and affection of all three of these immensely beautiful and extraordinary women, that they were all of them so devoted and considerate of me and each other that they were willing to share me.

It was every man’s fantasy, and the least I owed them in return was to make them all happy.

“Come here, Elaena,” I ordered.

She froze like a deer in the torchlight, her body instinctively obeying and marching her forward into my arms while her mind was still caught off-guard and not truly present. Her older sisters looked on approvingly as I kissed Elaena deeply on the lips.

It took only a few seconds for Elaena to return the kiss desperately, hungrily seeking entrance to my mouth with her tongue as our tastes mingled and our breathless moans mingled into our ceaseless embrace.

When the kiss finally broke, the hurt in her eyes had dissipated ever so slightly, replaced with an intense gaze of pure need and longing. I did not give her any time to dwell on dark thoughts, claiming her lips for my own once again before I trailed down along her neck, kissing and sucking as I went as she moaned in pure bliss. As I did so, I locked eyes with Daena and Rhaena, noticing that they were still watching.

There was an intense heat in their eyes, one of jealousy and arousal as they longed to be in Elaena’s place or join the two of us in our passion. Yet they made no move forward. Both of them knew how important this moment was for their younger sister and they had no desire to ruin it for her. And the self-imposed restriction of restraint only turned them on even more as they watched.

I had to resist the urge to chuckle a little as I watched them begin to squirm and rub where they stood. Consistently as ever, Daena was still a cuckquean (who was ironically now also the literal Queen) and Rhaena was a voyeur.

Of the three of them, Elaena was the most rational, the most likely to be convinced by logical arguments and political pragmatism. Yet all of those had failed to convince her of the truth of my words earlier because intentionally or not, I had rubbed right at the heart of her deepest insecurities. If words wouldn’t convince Elaena, actions would have to.

It seemed it was working as soon she was returning the favor sucking and biting down upon my neck and shoulders harder than I had done to her, desperately claiming me for her own. As she finally relented, just a little, I led her to my bed and laid her down on it so we could continue in a more comfortable setting while Daena and Rhaena followed, sitting on the edge of the bed as they continued to watch.

With all three of them on my bed, it finally occurred to me then that this was the first time I was having them in my own chambers. I had always gone to the Maidenvault, to their chambers and rooms, especially Daena’s.

Not anymore. Daena would no doubt want the Maidenvault torn down and as my three brides, I would have all of them right here in my chambers, whenever I wanted, however I wanted, for as long as we wanted. No more hiding, no more keeping ourselves quiet.

Just the thought of that had my lust surging and I steadily stripped Elaena’s clothes from her, removing each piece until her perfect body was completely revealed. I had seen it hundreds of times before by this point, yet it never ceased to wonder me. How could she have ever thought she wasn’t beautiful?

Her pregnant belly was most clearly visible on her small petite frame compared to her sisters but it only made her more desirable in my eyes. Her small, cute little breasts had become firmer and ever so slightly larger and her nipples were perkier than ever while her hips and bum had filled out in all the right places.

Elaena went red, squirming beneath the intensity of my gaze as she muttered to herself. “I know it’s not much,” she said as her eyes looked up to the bountiful busts of her sisters.

I shook my head and cut her self-deprecation off with a kiss, capturing her lips with my own yet again as both of my hands traced along her slight curves and fondled and massaged her breasts. They were just so firm and perky and every time my fingers traced around her nipples, Elaena would make this cute little squeak that just made me want to keep going.

She was small that was true, and less physically endowed than her sisters in some regards, but that in no way made her any less beautiful than her sisters. Some might argue that it made her even more beautiful as I thought humorously of the jokes many had made in my old life. Maybe there had been some truth to them I thought as I worshipped Elaena’s body.

I was going to rock her world, just drive her insane with pleasure and love until she understood that I didn’t care that she was smaller or less buxom than her sisters. I didn’t care that she was younger, that she wasn’t as meek and submissive as Rhaena or as daring and mischievously playful as Daena. She was mine as much as they were, and I loved her equally.

My lips traced south along her body, as I kissed and sucked along the way, feeling my heart swell with love and joy as I pressed my head gently to her pregnant belly where my child, the child I refused to let born a bastard, grew inside. I stayed there for a few moments, willing as much of my love that I could to flow to Elaena and our child before I continued, tracing my tongue along her hips and legs before I finally brought it down to her sex.

The three sisters all tasted similarly, likely because the foods they had been served in the Maidenvault for years had been constant and standardized, yet there were minute differences that I had learned in the months that I had been bedding them.

Daena was a little saltier, her taste more tinged with sweat from her active, physically exerting lifestyle. Rhaena was almost always fresh and airy, the prim and proper princess doing her best to be clean and pure right before I made her filthy all over again. Elaena’s taste always had that trace of mild sweetness that cut away at the normal tanginess. Almost like eating an orange.

I loved oranges.

With a finesse that could only have come from practice, I worked Elaena up masterfully beneath my tongue and fingers, driving her absolutely wild. I was careful not to go too far, we didn’t want her thrashing about and possibly hurting the baby after all, but it was enough, more than enough, to make her see stars.

I was careful to never once let up in any location. When my tongue delved into her folds, I was certain to keep my thumb rubbing at her hood above, always circling and teasing at her ever so sensitive pearl and making her shudder every time I did touch it. And when I pulled my tongue out, my fingers would immediately replace it, curling and pressing against just the right spots inside her before I licked her whole cunt from top to bottom slowly, teasingly, until my lips circled about her pearl and my mouth sucked hard on that sensitive spot.

Rinse and repeat, I did it over and over again, doing my best to ignore how hard I had grown inside my breeches. There would be more than enough time for that later, I told my eager manhood. Now was all about making Elaena scream.

And scream she did. Within minutes I had her squealing louder than she ever had in life. She no longer had any fear of her affair being exposed and ended and it showed. It felt like I would go deaf from how loudly she screamed and as much of a shame as that would be, in that moment I was so pent up with lust and love I thought it might be a worthy tradeoff to making her happier than ever before.

When our eyes met again however, Elaena was not in the slightest bit satisfied. The look in her eyes was so intense I couldn’t help but groan at how erotic it looked. Her soft lilac eyes had dilated and darkened so much it was like looking into a black hole. And just like a black hole, there was no escaping Elaena for me. I would always be under her spell.

My hunger, my lust, could not be held back any longer and Elaena did not want me to. My cock was so hard inside my breeches it was almost painful but before I removed it, a mischievous idea came to me, one I knew Elaena would just love.

“Daena, Rhaena, disrobe me,” I ordered, jolting our two voyeurs from their wanton inaction with a start as they immediately obeyed without question.

It turned them on as much as it did Elaena and me, I knew. Elaena drew pleasure from her older sisters preparing their mutual lover to fuck her not them. It made her feel powerful, like she was more desirable than them.

Daena just found the whole situation hot, as the eager and mischievous smile on her face gave away, aroused by the idea of spiting all of the Faith’s strictures and conventional norms (in addition to her cuckquean fetish).

As for Rhaena? Her face was the picture of scandalized submission, like a nun or septa witnessing obscene things. She acted as if she was doing all of this only because her future husband had ordered her to and as a dutiful, submissive wife, she needs must obey, but we all knew the truth. She enjoyed acting wantonly, she just didn’t want to admit it and used the excuse of submission to orders as permission for herself to indulge.

It opened up so many fun ways to bully and tease her, but right now this moment wasn’t for her or Daena and they had accepted that. They stayed within the confines of the order, teasing and sucking on my neck and pecs as they stripped my clothes from me. Daena snaked behind me and kissed at my neck with hands all over me as Rhaena greedily took my hard cock into her mouth and sucked it all the way down to the hilt, burying it in her throat and moaning all around it to keep me hard and stimulated, as if she was a fluffer.

She kept going for a while, sucking and bobbing furiously and I almost came in her hot mouth before I slapped at her bum to make her stop, glaring at her warningly as she looked up at me with mischief and wanton longing, the mask of the scandalized septa broken entirely momentarily.

Rhaena’s mouth left my cock with a satisfying pop, leaving it glistening and wet with her saliva and so hard and purple it was almost unbearable. My balls were backed up and begging for relief, I looked down to where Elaena was waiting for me on the bed, her eyes widened with amazement and lust, and I almost growled at her.

“On your hands and knees,” I barked. In the haze of my lust, the position felt the most suitable and the last remaining sliver of my rational mind approved, whispering that it would be safer for the baby that way.

Elaena blushed but I could see it was turning her on to know how much I desired her; how much I craved her. I needed her like I needed air and by the time she finally turned around and assumed the position, I was so impatient I barely waited at all, placing my cock right at the entrance of her sodden wet folds before splitting her open in one rapid thrust.

I couldn’t help but groan as I sank balls deep into her wet folds, feeling her soft silky insides grip tight around my cock like a velvety vice for the first time in over a month. Beside and behind me, I felt hands stroking, fingers groping, and legs grinding against me as Rhaena joined Daena, the two women draping themselves all over me as I nestled into their touch and buried my cock deeper and deeper inside their little sister.

For too long I had been separated from my lovers, forced to do penance and told to feel ashamed of what we shared, praying and hoping against hope that Baelor would die as he did in Canon.

My hopes had paid off beyond my wildest dreams. Baelor was dead and burnt to ash, dragons had been hatched on his funeral pyre, I was to be King, and nothing and no one was ever going to stand between me and my lovers, my wives, ever again.

Elaena moaned and gasped as my cock hilted inside her dripping cunt over and over again and I shivered as I felt my balls rub against her clit and soak themselves in her juices with every thrust. Biting my lip in focus, I did my best to thrust in the ways I knew would bring her the most pleasure, with all I had learnt over months of fucking her, aiming and circling at specific sweet spots deep inside her and pushing my balls against her hood.

As I continued to thrust into Elaena, I palmed the firm cheeks of her ass, squeezing them tight as an anchor to drive myself deeper into her. Honestly, she liked to complain a lot that her breasts were smaller than her sisters, but her bum was just as fantastic as theirs, and on her tight and young nubile frame, it was even more pronounced and shapely and irresistibly tantalizing.

All of a sudden, I slapped it, hard. Elaena shuddered with a squeak and she tightened around me before turning her head back to face me, tongue almost lolling out of her mouth as she begged.

“Again!”

What could a man do but oblige his woman? As I continued spanking Elaena’s bum and thrusting into her, I felt a sudden sharp sting on my own behind that made me hiss as I turned to look at the mischievously naughty grin on Daena’s face and the scandalized fascination on Rhaena’s behind her.

Without any true heat, I glared at them and shooed them away with a dismissive gesture of my hand and Daena obeyed with a giggle, dragging Rhaena with her to the side of the bed. I noticed them starting to rub at their breasts and cunts through their clothes in the corner of my eye as I turned my full attentions back to Elaena.

At an opportune moment, I lowered my body over her back, rubbing her supple breasts and perky nipples while I thrusted deep into her, making her groan in delight. I groped and squeezed them in my hands, feeling how tight and firm they were, small yet more than enough to fill my hand.

Then I moved them away. One hand moved south toward her clit, rubbing at it intensely and with more attention than I had been able to give it earlier while my other hand snaked through her platinum-white curls, rubbing carefully over the golden streak before I pulled firmly. Not enough to truly hurt but enough to pull her body taut and tighten it closer to me as I thrust deeper and deeper into her.

Elaena squeezed down on me almost subconsciously in response, getting more and more into it. I knew she was just about ready to blow when my hand moved from her hair to her mouth and she sucked on my fingers greedily, desperate to taste me in front as I took her from behind.

Preparing for the finishing blow, I placed my lips right behind her ear, making her shiver as she felt my breath upon the sensitive skin and I nibbled ever so slightly before whispering in that husky tone I knew she just loved.

“You’re beautiful Elaena. So beautiful, so hot, and clever. Your knowledge, your mind, it was essential for us to win the day and I wanted you to know we couldn’t have done it without you. We owe all of this to you. You’ve been a good girl, my love. My good girl. And good girls deserve a reward. Now come for me,” I said gently into her ears, praising and coaxing her with every word as my thrusts continued to push deeper into her and my hands continued rubbing at her clit and breasts.

Elaena didn’t stand a chance. She gasped breathlessly beneath my onslaught before screaming as her insides tightened so much around me so much I almost worried she might break my cock off as she started spasming and convulsing where she knelt. I held her hips steady as she came, making sure she didn’t hurt herself or our babe in the throes of her pleasure, and I hissed as I felt my own climax come over me before I would have liked, unable to resist the sweet tightening of Elaena’s folds inside me.

When I finally pulled out of Elaena, I coaxed her to lie down on her side and spoke to her softly.

“I’m sorry. For what I had to do back in that meeting. But you know why I did it, don’t you? You’re too smart not to, now that the initial haze of hurt has dissipated.”

Elaena nodded slowly, her face was full of reluctant understanding. “Yes. Everything you said in that room was true. You ascend the throne by right of wife, by marriage to Daena. Naturally that fact and the precedent of primogeniture should give primacy to Daena’s children above mine or Rhaena’s. Making Daena your sole, co-ruling Queen and keeping Rhaena and I as mere Princesses is the easiest way to reinforce that notion and ensure a second Dance doesn’t come to be,” she said logically without any emotion in her words.

“And you know that this logical solution does not mean I love you or Rhaena any less than I do Daena, yes?” I pressed harder, wanting to make sure she absolutely understood this critical point.

She looked up at me and for the first time today, I saw a mischievous glint in her eyes and a slight curl in her lips as she whispered to me, “I think I might need a little more convincing.”

Oh, this little minx. Yet despite my exasperation, I couldn’t help but smile as I pulled her in for another kiss and slipped my rapidly hardening cock back into her for a second round.

I made sure that Elaena got off several times after that, making sure she was completely satisfied while doing my best to barely hold back from spilling inside her again, well aware that I had another two lovers that had been patiently waiting all this while. When Elaena finally tapped out and moved to the corner of the bed to try and catch her breath, I turned back to face her sisters with my head resting on the pillow of my bed.

The sight of both of them furiously masturbating with that intense, focused look in their eyes was extremely erotic. Their clothes were in absolute mess, shrugged off and crumpled but not completely removed as they had touched and fingered their breasts and cunts while watching the two of us.

I tried my best to resist a smug triumphant smirk when I beckoned them forth and they both rushed for me, unable to hold themselves back any longer. Daena claimed my lips for herself, all but shoving her tongue down my throat while I helped her shrug off the rest of her clothing. Meanwhile I soon felt Rhaena’s full soft weight hovering over my hips as her fingers reverently grabbed a hold of my rock-hard cock and began sliding it along her sopping wet folds as she grinded atop my body.

Yet when Rhaena made no moves to put it in, I knew what she was after. I broke my kiss with Daena to look at her and our eyes met. Those purple eyes of Rhaena which had once been filled with such piety and zealous faith in the Seven now had only one true god shining in their eyes no matter how much denial Rhaena lived in. And at moments like this, it most clearly showed as she begged to be ordered, to be permitted to act as the wanton woman she really wanted to be.

“Ride me, Rhaena,” I commanded. “Ride your husband, you slutty, pregnant whore!”

Rhaena’s eyes rolled back as she almost came on the spot just from the degrading words. I shook my head in amusement as she recovered from her daze just enough to obey the order, lifting her hips up and moving my tips to press right at the soaking entrance of her slit before she sank down on me.

She delved slowly but eagerly, sighing loudly with every inch before letting out a whorish moan as she finally reached the hilt of my cock. I felt her weight gently resting on my hips, the tight muscles of her entrance nestled against my balls and the base of my cock, squeezing down tightly with a vice grip while her silky insides massaged my shaft, and I had to struggle not to finish on the spot.

I was already on a knife’s edge from my second round with Elaena and as Rhaena lifted her hips to begin riding me in earnest, I sucked my breath in and hissed, determined to not let myself finish before her. As she gyrated atop me, I watched with a rapt eye, enthralled by the way her massive breasts jiggled and bounced as she rode me like a dragon.

They were so soft and fluffy, so easy to imagine burying myself into (and I had on many occasions). I wished I could reach out and fondle them but my hands had been commandeered by Daena for her own lower lips and that was as worthy a mission as any and so I resigned myself to simply watching as Daena continued sucking on my neck and Rhaena’s buxom bosom bounced bustily and her soft bum nestled into me as I thrust my hips up to meet her.

I was barely holding myself back now and as if noticing my struggle, Daena looked at me meaningfully and I nodded. “Do it Daena. Help your sister get off,” I ordered and she obeyed with her characteristic smirk.

Like a cat playing with its food, Daena snaked her way behind where Rhaena was riding my cock furiously and she began kissing at her neck, rubbing at her clit, and cupping her soft, juicy breasts. As she rubbed her hands leisurely all over Rhaena’s bountiful chest, I almost found myself forgetting that I had ordered her to do so in my jealousy.

I wanted nothing more than to be the one doing that. Yet at the same time, it was one of the hottest scenes I had ever seen despite seeing things like it half a hundred times before already. And when Daena leaned down and captured Rhaena’s lips for her own in a steamy, spicy kiss, I lost all control and reason as my newly freed hands cupped around Rhaena’s ample bum and wide hips and held them tight as I rammed into her hard from below.

Somehow, lost in the haze of Daena’s ministrations and my rapid thrusting, Rhaena still had the presence of mind to break the kiss and shout one of the most erotic things I had ever heard.

“Come inside me, Daeron! I want you to come in me! Spill your seed inside my womb and remind our child who it’s father is!”

I groaned at her outrageous words and my balls tightened as they did as she asked. My cock trembled and twinged as I shot spurt after spurt of hot seed deep into her depths while Rhaena screamed in ecstasy, driven over the edge by Daena’s fingers on her pearl and breasts and my seed filling her up.

Truthfully Rhaena had taken almost everything I had and as she laid down beside Elaena, exhausted, I could see Daena looking hungrily at my seed leaking out steadily from both of them before she turned to me with an expectant look on her face.

There was a smile on her face, full of a challenge. I knew what she was saying. I had chosen to marry three wives, I better prove myself capable of satisfying them all.

Accepting the dare, I pulled her down into my arms and kissed her gently before turning her around in my grasp, turning to the side to spoon her from behind and gently caress her pregnant belly as I kissed and bit at her neck and ears and my fingers rubbed against her pearl. The moment they slipped inside, she tightened down upon them, her cunt instinctively squeezing upon what it desperately hoped was my cock after several minutes of tantalizing foreplay and views.

As my cock hardened back to full strength, I continued my endeavors without slipping it into her as of yet, intent on bringing her to her peak at least once before I took my own final pleasure, just to make sure she was satisfied and my stamina didn’t fail me at this last crucial moment.

I kept on going, kissing and nibbling all along her neck as the fingers of my left hand continued to plunder her twat and my thumb rubbed at her pearl while my other hand grasped and fondled at her breasts, not as large as Rhaena’s but not as small as Elaena’s either. A nice premium right in the middle, I thought as Daena finally finished for me.

This was not normally how she enjoyed intimacy. She usually liked it to be quite active, riding hard atop me or bucking backwards into me as I fucked her from behind. But today she was rather pliable and obedient now that I finally had her in my arms after all her teasing smirks and mischief. I had a slight suspicion as to why.

“My queen,” I whispered into her ears and she shivered and nestled deeper into my touch almost like a purring cat as she whispered it back.

“My king,” she said slyly.

“Shall I make love to you?” I asked

“Yes,” she said, breathless from anticipation.

Giving her what she wanted, I slipped into her slick hot wetness from below as we remained on our sides, thrusting into her lazily while my hands and mouth continued what they had been doing. I knew she liked it, I could hear her moans picking up more and more intensity and volume as we went. It wasn’t long, however, before Daena’s wish to be pampered like a queen and wife today gave way to her usual desire as she began making her demands.

“Fuck me, husband. Fuck me harder! Fuck me until you’ve filled me up just like my sisters!”

“As my queen commands,” I whispered huskily into her ears and I grinned as she tightened so sweetly around me.

The tighter she became, the better it felt to plunge deep into her folds and forcibly spread them apart with my cock. Having finished a few times already however, my last climax of the day was a long ways away still while Daena had been watching me fuck her sisters for several minutes and only grown more and more aroused.

Just one climax would hardly be enough to sate her appetites I knew, and no good husband left their wife unsatisfied. I continued thrusting upwards into her, feeling our legs intertwine and clamp on each other as I rutted into her from the side and below.

Her begging pleas were commandments from the divine, her squirming as I continued pawing and touching all her body was a scrumptious dessert, her sweet moans were music to my ears. And the screams she made as I took her to her peak over and over again were the delightful high choruses in the symphony I was playing with her whole body, mind, and soul.

I was inside her, outside her, and all around her, and the more we fucked and the more she came undone around me, the harder it became to tell where she ended and I began.

It wasn’t long before I lost count how many times I had made her finish, and when I finally groaned and spilled my seed for the final time that day, deep within her, I could feel her tighten and squeeze around me as her legs shook and I knew I had taken her up to the peak with me one last time.

Satisfied and utterly spent, Daena nestled into my arms with no urgency to take my cock out of her. It remained inside her, still hard but slowly softening inside her silky insides. In front of us, Rhaena and Elaena laid on the bed in similar states of bliss and contentment/ Even after several minutes, my seed was still leaking out of them.

I felt a rush of pride, the primal kind a man felt when he had satisfied his women, and I kept it in my heart as I drifted off to sleep, my manhood still inside Daena, our flesh still one.

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Author’s Note: I hope you guys liked this chapter as I worked very hard to get the last bits of it done on a work weekday night!

I hope you all found the discussion on the succession and marriages interesting and agree with the final decision and outcome! As for the celebration foursome that came after hehe, I hope you guys enjoyed that too lol.

Please let me know your thoughts, suggestions, and questions in the comments below or over on Discord!