Divide and Conquer, Chapter 16: Submission at the Eyrie (E)

Seventh Moon, 107 AD (6 AC)

Rhaenys

They almost made it too easy, Rhaenys could not help but think. Almost the entirety of the Vale’s army had massed at the Bloody Gate, cramming its battlements and barracks to the brim and filling the valley behind it with their tents. They stood in a perfect formation, ready to throw back their own army marching up the road, as they had thrown back and bloodied every invader in history, earning the gate its name.

But they were not like all the other invaders of ancient times’ past. For in the skies above their army, Rhaenys and her siblings rode astride the greatest dragons the world had seen since the Doom. Her darling Meraxes shone in the noontide sun, resplendent like a true queen, as befit the epithet she had been graced with in recent years. The Silver Queen would see glory and battle again soon alongside Vhagar the Bronze Fury and Balerion the Black Dread.

Their riders were as renown as they were. Rhaenys herself had been known as the Ruthless ever since her brutal campaign in the Iron Islands for all that the court of Summerhall preferred the more polite and appreciative ‘Radiant’ in reference to her beauty. Visenya was herself known as the ‘Valiant’ for none could deny her bravery despite her early retirement from the Iron Islands campaign and Rhaenys was sure that she would cement ‘Victorious’ in her reputation soon enough as well. And for all that their enemies liked to slander her as the Witch-Queen for her sorcery and supposed cruelty as their kingdom’s spymaster, Visenya didn’t mind that moniker either.

And then there was their lord husband and brother Aegon. Already known as Aegon the Dragon, as Aegon the Conqueror after his conquest of three Westerosi kingdoms. Rhaenys could only dream of seeing how much higher his legend could rise. One day, all of Westeros from Dorne to the Wall would hail him as Aegon the Great, the Unifier, and she would be the first to bow before him and call him her emperor and king.

She knew all of their epithets and reputations intimately. As the Mistress of Words, it was one of her duties alongside Visenya’s to maintain and cultivate them after all. She was the one who had created most of the epithets anyway, discreetly paying bards in taverns to sing songs in their name and spread word of their legend around. Fame was a power all on its own, able to make men rise and die for you and to make your enemies surrender at simply the sight of you.

And what did the Valemen seek to wield against their power? Against their majesty and splendor, their loyal armies and above all their great dragons? They thought themselves prepared for their coming, their ranks bristling with their scorpions, crossbows, and longbows. Weapons they held so tightly they almost began shaking as the fear set in.

The Vale had thought themselves strong. They thought wrong.

As if with one mind, Rhaenys and her siblings urged their dragons down into a dive. The world burst to life with beautiful colors. Black-red incinerated through the gates and eviscerated the battlements. Silver-gold tore through the barracks. Blue-green immolated men in their armor, cooking them alive before they turned to ash and then nothing.

When the dust settled, when the fires finally burned out, nothing remained of the Vale’s army. The famous Bloody Gate had been cracked open like an egg and the way was open to the Eyrie. As Harrenhal and Casterly Rock and all the others before had shown, no fortress or army could withstand their dragons, and with every example they made, their fame and infamy would only grow. Just the way Rhaenys wanted it.

Their army had grown in the years since the conquests of the Westerlands and Iron Islands. They now fielded five fully-trained legions and nearly sixty thousand in feudal levies and banners besides. Only a third of the feudal banners had been summoned for this campaign however, along with three legions. The remaining legions and banners had been left back home, under the command of Rhaenys’ daughter Valaena and her nephew Aerion.

Thinking of them settled some of Rhaenys’ usual unease at the thought of the children all alone without any of their parents at home with them. Valaena and Aerion had grown up into responsible young adults and though they were only three and ten and not yet of age themselves, they were already old enough to look after themselves and their younger siblings and that put her heart more at ease.

She knew Visenya and Aegon felt the same. Valaena and Aerion’s age ensured that the three of them could focus on this campaign with no distractions.

Once their army had collected what could be salvaged from the enemy army’s encampment (which included nearly all of their supplies, Rhaenys and her siblings were nothing but precise), they continued their march and within the week they were at the Gates of the Moon.

The Giant’s Lance speared high into the sky, the Gates of the Moon stout and strong at its base, the three waycastles of Stone, Snow, and Sky on the road snaking its way up the mountain, and six hundred feet above Sky, accessible only by winch or treacherous handholds carved into the face of the mountain was the Eyrie itself. With defenses like this, it was easy to see why all in Westeros thought the Eyrie impregnable. But then, they had said much the same of the Bloody Gate, Casterly Rock, and all the others now, hadn’t they?

Yet for all of her intent to make more examples of the might of their dragons, Rhaenys could not bring herself to desire the Eyrie’s destruction. The castle was so beautiful, seven fine marble towers stretching into the sky atop an idyllic mountain. The romantic in her sang at the sight. It was not every day that you saw a castle straight out of all the tales you had grown up on as a child. Who better to have a castle in the sky than the dragonlords born to master the skies?

She hoped the Arryns chose wisely. It would be a shame to destroy such a lovely castle even if the example it would set would only cement the dominance and invincibility of dragons in the minds of the Westerosi.

“Shall we?” Rhaenys said, turning to her siblings.

“Yes,” Aegon replied before he urged Balerion into the sky. Rhaenys and Visenya were quick on their tail, Meraxes and Vhagar eager to catch up with their mate.

The Giant’s Lance rose three and a half miles above the valley below and the Eyrie stood astride one of the mountain’s shoulders, thousands of feet above the plain but dragons made short work of such distances. Soon enough, they had reached the Eyrie and the castle looked no less beautiful up close than it had from afar.

Rhaenys and Visenya descended, landing their dragons in the courtyard much like Visenya had done in another world. Unlike that time however, where she had taken the risk of a single arrow slaying her alone, this time there were two of them and Aegon still circling the castle with Balerion. They also were not dismounting from their dragons in case they needed a quick escape. The risks were great nonetheless though and Rhaenys knew none of them were pleased to be taking them but they had judged it necessary for their plans to succeed.

The fearful and panicked Arryn guardsmen were shaking in their boots as they cried out. “Inform King Ronnel Arryn, his mother Queen Regent Sharra, and his brother Prince Jonos that their presence is expected in the yard at once!” Rhaenys shouted.

“Do not leave us waiting,” Visenya warned with an edge in her voice.

They did not. Within a few minutes, the Arryns had arrived in the yard. All of them clearly on guard yet doing their best to act the picture of stern royals and not show it. King Ronnel did especially well for a fourteen-year-old boy pretending to be brave, while his younger brother Jonos carried a short bow in his arms.

“Why have you come and declared an unprovoked war on my kingdom Targaryens?” he asked.

Because we want your kingdom. Because you are soon to marry your Gardener bride and we cannot allow your alliance with the coalition to the south to solidify. Because with you and your family in our custody, your southern allies will stay their hand and the Vale will surrender easily to our armies.

But Rhaenys did not say any of that, instead she said, “The reasons do not matter. All that does is that we have an army beneath your mountain and three dragons at your castle. The choice for you is simple King Ronnel. Surrender. Submit yourself and your kin to our custody where you will be treated with honor and order your castle and your kingdom to yield to us.”

“And if I refuse?” Ronnel asked defiantly.

“Then we will destroy the Eyrie with you and your family in it,” Visenya retorted.

“If we’re going to die anyway, why don’t we take you down with us?” Jonos Arryn demanded brashly, nocking an arrow and drawing his bow as he aimed straight for Rhaenys.

Instantly Meraxes and Vhagar growled, their wings moving to shield their riders.

“Try it if you dare!” Visenya snarled. “But know this, Jonos Arryn. Our husband still flies in the skies above this castle. No matter the outcome of this, your death and that of everyone you love will be neither short nor painless!”

“Boys! Enough! It is over. We tried and we lost. Now it is time that we protect our family and ourselves by yielding,” Sharra Arryn spoke at last and her two sons relented under her will.

Addressing the two of them, she asked. “Do I have your word that my sons will not be harmed if we kneel?” She asked not for herself but only for her sons Rhaenys could not help but notice.

Feeling herself filled with respect, she answered. “Yes. On my word as one mother to another. They will not be harmed.”

“Then I yield this castle and this kingdom to you Rhaenys Targaryen,” she said before she kneeled, dragging her two sons by the scruffs of their stubborn necks down with her.

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As soon as the Arryns had surrendered, they had immediately taken Ronnel and Jonos hostage to ensure their mother and the garrison’s compliance with the surrender. Within the day their forces had secured the entire complex from the Gates of the Moon through the three waycastles of Stone, Snow, and Sky all the way up to the Eyrie itself, disarming the garrisons and taking charge of the castles for themselves.

Aegon had then personally flown the Arryns back to Summerhall where they would live securely as their hostages under house arrest until the Vale was pacified and they could be sent to the Wall or silent sisters. Meanwhile Rhaenys and Visenya had set about consolidating their grip on the Eyrie even more and began dispatching ravens across the Vale announcing the surrender of House Arryn and demanding the submission of their vassals.

Few had actually agreed to submit but that suited them just fine. There would be plenty of castles to give out to their loyalists.

Now with Aegon having just recently returned from Summerhall, they were holding their first major meeting with their commanders ever since the Eyrie had surrendered. And what better way to demonstrate who the new rulers of the Vale were then by holding that meeting in the Eyrie’s very own High Hall?

“Announcing His Grace! Aegon of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Rivers and Hills, King of the Isles and Rock, King of Mountain and Vale, Lord of Summerhall and Dragonstone Shield of His People, and Protector of the Realm!” Rhaenys announced with glee.

As long as she was present, she would suffer none but herself as Aegon’s herald. She did her best to hide how every word made her shiver.

It was something she had noticed a while back. When she had first announced him as King of the Rivers and Hills and all those other titles all those years ago when they had first conquered the Riverlands, she had felt so intoxicated and yet she had simply attributed it to the high of their victory and accomplishment. The fact that Aegon and Visenya had felt much the same and he had taken both of them so hard that night had only made it seem even more the case.

Yet she had realized that wasn’t all there was to it when they had conquered the Westerlands and she had added the title ‘King of the Isles and Rock’ to the long list of titles she had to announce for him. And now they had added yet another title for Aegon and she couldn’t deny it anymore.

Every time they added another kingdom to Aegon’s titles, it meant that they were one step closer to fulfilling their dream. Every time they added a new kingdom to his long list of titles, his power grew and it felt intoxicating. To know that she had a part in achieving that power and shared in its benefits only made it better.

It was a shame they would have to cut the titles short when they consolidated the kingdoms and forged the empire, but that was alright. Rhaenys could think of something else that was nice and long.

No, she tried to shake herself out of it. She had to pay attention to the meeting. Aegon was praising Orys and the other commanders for their services thus far, going through all the niceties and courtesies expected of a popular king holding court. The diplomat in Rhaenys was proud. The craving wife in her only wanted him to shut up and take her right there on the spot.

Rhaenys had long suspected that she had a thing for power. And why wouldn’t she when she had been blessed to be married to the most powerful man in the world? Her husband stood there, a charming smile on his face that could make any girl swoon just like she had as a lovestruck teen. His build was imposing and powerful as he towered over the room from the dais of the Weirwood Throne, dominant and assertive over the seat of a royal house they had cast down together.

Her lust was growing. She could feel a heat brewing between her legs that was growing harder and harder to ignore. She shifted her legs slightly trying to get some relief.

This was bad. She was supposed to be a Queen! She was supposed to hold herself to higher standards than this. She shouldn’t be this irresponsible but she couldn’t help herself. After their stunning success and victories in the campaign so far, Rhaenys wanted nothing more than to celebrate.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Visenya watching her and realized that she had been caught. She bit her lips, trying desperately not to flush like a little girl caught by their big sister doing something embarrassing.

Luckily no one else in the room had noticed, transfixed on Aegon’s speech as he droned on and on about the army and dragon deployments to secure the rest of the Vale’s submission and how the Vale would be reorganized into three Wards and two Crown Provinces afterward, the former to be held by their cousins Corlys Velaryon and Arthor Celtigar and the loyalist Raelandro Rogare. Things that were important for her to pay attention to yet her mind was in the clouds and her dress was getting wet.

Normally Aegon’s deep husky voice pleased her but right now hearing it was just torture. She couldn’t decide if she wanted him to never stop talking so she could keep hearing his voice or to stop the whole meeting right now so he could fulfill his husbandly duties to her.

It almost felt like a miracle when the meeting finally came to an end though for the life of her Rhaenys couldn’t recall any true details. She thought her struggle over before she saw a mischievous look on Visenya’s face before she whispered into Aegon’s ear.

They were alone in the High Hall now, with none but the Dragonguard guarding the doors and it wasn’t long before they too were dispatched to guard the doors from the other side to give them some true privacy. Aegon turned to her then.

Rhaenys shivered, from fear or want she did not know. There was a dark and dangerous look in Aegon’s eyes. His every stalking step towards her had her weak in her knees and she struggled to remain standing.

“Visenya tells me that you’ve been very naughty hāedar,” he said, tracing his hand up her thigh ever so slowly. His breath was hot on her neck. Rhaenys almost came undone just from that.

“Yes,” she choked out. “Please. Punish me,” she begged.

“Hmm,” he said contemplatively as he ran his hand north, slipping under her dress and beneath her shift.

She almost squealed when his fingers finally touched her there, but his rebuke was quick and biting. “Quiet!” he shouted in a whisper, wrapping his hand around her mouth to silence her. “You don’t want the guards outside to hear you now do you?”

Rhaenys was almost tempted to say she wouldn’t mind. Let them hear the proof of their love for all she cared. But she knew that wasn’t what he wanted and that only aroused her more.

She squirmed as his fingers slipped inside. Her knees buckled, unable to take it anymore but before she could fall Aegon grabbed her tightly and supported her weight with his other hand effortlessly, almost making her swoon all over again at the reminder of how strong he was.

She couldn’t escape, couldn’t squirm away from his grasp, and she soon realized that was the point. The realization sent her lust as high as the Giant’s Lance. The restriction was maddening and yet so, so good.

Aegon continued his ministrations on her. His mouth kissed up and down her neck, sucking gently before biting down hard. She would have a lot of love bites to hide on the morrow but it would be all worth it. Aegon’s left hand continued to support and caress her legs and bum while his right tortured her so good right where it felt best. Rhaenys had always liked bards and right now Aegon was playing her like a minstrel played a lute. The only man she would ever want doing something like this to her.

She could feel his efforts starting to bear fruit, the pleasure was building in her core, rising higher and higher to the crest that Rhaenys knew would outdo any she had felt in quite some time. And then suddenly he stopped.

“Why?” she whined like a child, unable to help herself. No sense of shame or embarrassment left at this point, only the need to feel that sweet, sweet pleasure.

“All part of the punishment love,” Aegon said teasingly though with a tenderness that almost broke the character he had been playing with her earlier. He held her there for a few more minutes, waiting for that crest to sink back down before he started anew and started working her up all over again.

Much to her dismay he stopped again right at the edge. “Why are you doing this to me?” Rhaenys begged.

“Because… you’ve been a very, very naughty girl. And naughty girls like you need to be punished,” he said huskily and Rhaenys shuddered.

He kept working her up and bringing her back down, over and over again, in a pleasurable torture that made her mind go blank. She had completely lost track of time and how many times she had been brought to the edge but denied release when Visenya returned. In her lustful haze, Rhaenys hadn’t even noticed that her sister had left the room at all.

In Visenya’s hand was a cup emanating a bitter scent she recognized all too well. Moon tea. Remembering what had happened the last time they had forgotten the tea, Rhaenys drank it all down in one gulp before tossing the cup aside carelessly, not even caring about Visenya’s raised eyebrow or the sound the wooden cup made as it clattered on the floor of the hall.

Her attention was focused entirely on Aegon and the insufferable, amused smirk on his face. “Are you finally going to fuck me now?” she demanded plainly.

“No,” he said almost cruelly. “Visenya and I are going to have some fun together first. Your last punishment meanwhile will be to wait, and watch. You can play with yourself if you like but you can’t finish. We’ll know if you do.”

Rhaenys all but fell to her knees in despair at his words. Why were her siblings so mean to her? They got into these moods where they just liked to bully her so much and she hated it.

Yet secretly she liked it, didn’t she? Why else would she have let them keep doing it to her?

Cursed to wait, Rhaenys could only watch as her sibling’s tongues intertwined. They battled for dominance as they always had, for Visenya had never been as willing to submit as she had been. Today however, Aegon was not in a mood to be denied and soon she gave in to his kiss as he all but tore off her clothes, his manhood having grown almost painfully hard in all the time he had been playing with Rhaenys.

To Rhaenys’ amazement Aegon then dragged Visenya over to the Weirwood Throne before he sat himself down on the throne, shorn of almost all of his clothes, and pulled her into his lap. They continued to make out and kiss deeply and it was not long before Visenya was riding him on the throne, her tits bouncing in the air as she grinded on him, their juices spilling out to stain the throne of their conquered and defeated enemy.

Rhaenys felt the slightest twinge of shame as she was quite sure that this was not Sharra Arryn had had in mind when she had surrendered to her. That twinge was soon crushed underfoot as her lust soared all over again. The sight before her was so erotic that Rhaenys could not resist the temptation to touch herself, to feel just a fraction of the pleasure her siblings were feeling right now.

She bit down hard on the hem of her dress to try and stop herself from screaming as she rubbed and touched herself furiously to the sight before her. There was not even an ounce of jealousy in her body, only a shameful wanton lust and desire.

Rhaenys had always admired her older sister, been in awe of how stern and strong she had always been. Her being reduced into a moaning mess all but screaming their husband’s name had never ceased to amaze and arouse her. She wished nothing more than to feel what Visenya was feeling right now, doing her best to replicate it but her poor lowly fingers had never been capable of anything more than a mere facsimile of the real thing.

Aegon looked so powerful and dominant as he continued to fuck their proud older sister into a stupor. Rhaenys’ lust only continued to grow but she was mindful to obey her orders, making sure she didn’t finish. She was patiently waiting her turn, like a good girl should, and she knew her reward would be more than worth it.

When Visenya finally finished with an uncharacteristic scream that the Dragonguard had surely heard from outside the hall, Rhaenys almost lost her resolve and pushed to finish with her on the spot. The look on Aegon’s face distracted her, however.

He looked so content in that moment, so indisputably happy and grateful, as if part of him still could not believe his good fortune that he had gotten to marry and cherish both of them even now after eight children and fourteen years of marriage together. The look on his face was so earnest and sweet that Rhaenys could not help but fall in love with him all over again and for the briefest of moments love won out over lust as the two of them locked eyes.

Gently, Aegon laid their exhausted sister to rest on the throne before he walked down to her. Rhaenys’ excitement grew again as her turn finally, finally came.

Tenderly and almost apologetically Aegon kissed her. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long my love. You’ve been a good girl, and now it’s time for your reward.”

She came undone the moment he slid into her. All the teasing and edging had made that inevitable.

Every muscle in her body squeezed almost painfully but it hurt so good. The pleasure soared to a peak, the wave of an ocean raised to the highest crest, a crest that Aegon did not let her come down from as he continued to fuck her all the while.

His fingers continued to rub gently at her sensitive pearl as he continued to thrust into her, finding all the spots he knew she loved from with the experience of over a decade of marriage. Before she had even come down from the high of her first finish, Rhaenys could feel Aegon bringing her to even greater heights, heights she hadn’t even thought possible.

The pleasure continued to build and build, climbing higher and higher until finally, he bent down over and whispered into her ear. His voice was husky and deep, his breath hot on her neck. “Come for me hāedar.”

She came undone in an instant, screaming so loudly she was sure the entire castle heard her. And she took Aegon down with her, her insides squeezing around him so tightly he groaned and spilled his seed deep inside her as she wrapped her legs around his back and held him close.

Rhaenys could feel his warm seed spreading into her womb, the primally thrilling and satisfying feeling of being bred, and for a moment she almost regretted taking the moon tea.

Wartime was the worst possible time to have a child, Visenya knew that all too well. Not to mention she had four children already but Rhaenys was still young. She was barely one and thirty, in the prime of her life and so deeply in love with her husband. She decided then and there that when the time was right, she very much wanted to have another child with Aegon. A ninth little dragon to lighten up their life as they wrapped up the last stages of the Conquest.

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The Other Arryn

“Ser Hubert, what are we going to do?” one of the men asked desperately.

Hubert didn’t answer, giving in to despair as he realized what had happened to his beloved kingdom. As he finally understood just how close he had come to death. He had been there at the Bloody Gate just days prior to the Targaryen assault, having been sent away for a routine supply run before they had attacked.

By the slightest chance of fortune he had escaped where everyone else had died and his own cousins had been taken prisoner and the Eyrie itself now served the invaders. What hope was there for the Vale now?

Yet as he looked at the men around him, saw the desperate looks on their faces, Hubert found some measure of resolve harden within his spirit. He was the last free Arryn now. Someone had to lead these men and give them hope in these dark times.

The Faith Militant stood with them as well he reminded himself, seeing their banners in the room beside their leader, Ser Jason Melcolm. Hubert took heart, remembering the promise of aid the Faith, the Reach, and the Stormlands had given his cousins before the Targaryens had invaded.

As his resolve continued to grow, he began to realize that perhaps the Seven had spared him for a glorious purpose. To fight and free the Vale from the incestuous heathen invaders in their name. Why else would he have lived when so many others had died? No, he was meant for something more.

Hubert took stock of their situation, his despair fading away as he calmed himself down from his panic enough to think. Right now, they were hiding in one of the refuges that had been built in the Mountains of the Moon after they had destroyed the mountain clans a few years earlier. Like all the others that had been built, the refuge was well-stocked with supplies, weapons, and armor and there were many scouts among his men who knew the routes and pathways to the other refuges where other survivors had no doubt fled.

Together they stood a chance, to strike back against the Targaryens, to bleed them dry for the dire mistake they had made invading the Vale. And when their allies in the south came to their aid, they would crush the Targaryens.

“Men of the Vale! Warrior’s Sons! Poor Fellows” he called out, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could. All the men in the refuge turned to look at him, paying him rapt attention, as he continued his speech.

“I know our situation seems hopeless. That we will never be able to throw off the yoke of these heathen and accursed invaders. But take heart, for though thousands of our countrymen lay dead at the Bloody Gate, tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters in the Seven rally to our aid from the Reach and Stormlands even as we speak!

“We need only prove our faith and hold out long enough for them to muster and we shall be delivered! By the Light of the Seven!”

“By the Light of the Seven!” the Faith Militant chorused.

“Take heart!” he continued. “For though my cousins are imprisoned, I am still with you! I am the nephew of King Joffrey, the cousin of King Ronnel, and in the absence of any other heirs to the Weirwood Throne, I hereby declare myself Prince-Regent of the Vale!

“Follow me, and I swear that I shall not rest until the Vale is freed from the invader! For the Seven! For the Vale! As High as Honor!”

With the will to fight stoked in their hearts once again, the men all rose to their feet.

“FOR THE SEVEN!! FOR THE VALE!! AS HIGH AS HONOR!!”

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Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The middle section of this chapter was basically just the steamiest and filthiest smut I’ve ever written… As a writer exploring new things, I can’t help but feel proud of what I have accomplished (and as a reader I’m pleased for other reasons lmao). At the same time, I can’t help but be disbelieving that I wrote something like this even now. I create… but at what cost?

Thanks to Jordan Redstark and Ascalon541 as usual for making the maps and sigils in the appendices!

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