Dragonlance, Chapter 2: The Defiant Dragoness

Tenth Moon, 169 AC

Aemon Targaryen

“I don’t want to see you slacking off even once! Repeat the strokes until your arms are dead! If you have enough time and energy to be fooling around with my cousins, I clearly haven’t been drilling you hard enough!” Aemon barked at his nephew and squire, a menacing expression on his face.

“Yes Uncle,” Daeron obeyed. To his credit, the lad did not complain nor grouse and kept diligently working at his strokes but it did little to improve Aemon’s mood.

How had it all come to this, he thought. How had Naerys and the rest of them so utterly failed to raise Daeron properly? Aegon had never been all that interested in the raising of his only trueborn son, especially when Daeron proved less and less like him as the years had gone by. Instead, for the most part, Aemon had helped his sister to raise her son and their father Viserys and their cousin Baelor had contributed to varying degrees as well.

While he would have liked if Daeron had shown more interest in the ways of the sword and knighthood, Aemon had been content when he hadn’t. He had found himself proud of the man his nephew had been growing to become, scholarly, and wise. Though he had worried that he was too much like Baelor, too pious and wise, too friendly to the Dornish, he had seen it as a lesser evil than for Daeron to be anything at all like Aegon, rash, temperamental, and lustful.

And so, when Daeron had suddenly one day asked to be his squire, to follow in his footsteps and become a noble knight that would perfectly unite piety and wisdom with the strength of arms and mind to defend one’s people and family, Aemon had been overjoyed. Any minor misgivings he had had with Daeron’s character were now utterly gone and even Baelor had given his leave.

He had taken Daeron under his wing and had sought to teach him all that he could and the boy had soaked up his lessons like a sponge. The lad had proven adept with the sword and especially the lance and even more receptive to the ideals of knighthood Aemon had sought to instill in him. Ideals that most definitely did not include seducing and impregnating three of his cousins!

If he had known that was what the lad would end up doing with all of his training, he would never have taken him on as his squire. He had heard far too much of Daena and her sisters gushing over his squire’s dashing new looks when the rest of the family had interrogated them. Even Rhaena, pious as she was, had shamefully admitted to being sinfully swayed by Daeron’s greatly improved physical appearance and confidence.

As it was, Daeron was already his squire and Aemon was never one to leave a task unfinished. He had clearly been remiss in his training and education of the boy though and Baelor had agreed once he had woken from the shock he had experienced hearing that his erstwhile protégé had seduced his sisters.

Baelor had ordered Aemon to keep Daeron far away from Daena, Rhaena, and Elaena, and ensure that all four of them carried out the punishment of prayerful penance he had decided for them in the castle, separately. Of the four, only Rhaena was really repentant in any way, ashamed by her succumbing to lust, while the other three paid lip service to their penance. And so Aemon had taken it upon himself to make Daeron really pay penance with extra harsh training, a punishment for daring to lay with the cousins Aemon saw as his own younger sisters.

At the very least however, their questioning of the three sisters made it clear that whatever had transpired between them and Daeron had been entirely consensual for all parties, even if Daena and Elaena had taken great pleasure in enraging Baelor with how lurid and lewd their retellings of the tale were.

In response to that, Baelor had begun intensively fasting and praying for the souls of his sisters and his disgraced protégé and Naerys often joined him though at his and their father’s behest, she did not fast as Baelor did as they feared for her health and safety. They feared for Baelor’s too but their words could not convince him and though he was a Kingsguard, Aemon had no power to protect his King from himself.

And so they did nothing but watch as Baelor steadily wasted away in intense prayer, barely eating or drinking anything. They simply had too many things to worry about.

His father Viserys was already busy seeing to the realm as whispers of the scandal had already begun leaking and the Martells were furiously demanding to know what was going on. Aemon could only imagine the headache he was having. Naerys continued to pray with Baelor while Aemon punished trained Daeron and made sure he and their cousins’ penance was enforced.

As for Aegon? The entire affair was nothing but a joke to him, the funniest thing he had ever heard of. He kept going on and on about how this was the first time he had ever been proud of his son and even confessed to his jealousy and admiration of his deeds in a number of drunken stupors. He was half the reason the whole thing had even leaked to begin with.

Aemon had always seen Daeron cringe in embarrassment and disgust whenever Aegon praised him and said he was proud of him and while that had made him feel a little better, he couldn’t help but ask what had made him decide to follow his footsteps then?

Daeron’s response had given him much to consider. A mix of newfound misgivings and dislike from Dorne after closely studying history mixed with him being flattered by the attentions of Daena and her sisters, whom he had always protested the imprisonment of even before and had found himself growing even closer to as his distrust of Dorne had grown.

His nephew’s words had made Aemon remember many of his own long buried feelings on the matter. Like the memory of his cousin, Daeron I, dying in his arms in Dorne and the guilt of his failure to save him that had always haunted him ever since. Of the gratitude he had felt for Baelor coming for him in his imprisonment in Wyl that had ensured he had held his tongue throughout his reign even as he had steadily turned his back on everything Daeron had stood for.

Had it been right for him to do so? To stay silent and not protest how Baelor had made peace with the kingdom that had killed his brother? That had almost killed him even after he had returned the hostages? Or had Baelor been right to seek peace no matter the cost?

Aemon wasn’t sure if that peace would even hold now that Daeron had so egregiously broken the Dornish betrothal with his actions. Would Baelor allow Daeron to marry Daena or any of his sisters in the end to save at least one of them from the stigma of birthing a bastard? Would Dorne attack in a rage from their daughter being spurned? Would Baelor even survive his intense fasting when it had almost killed him before?

The Dragonknight had no idea what was going to happen, and that unnerved him more than he was willing to admit.

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Five Months Earlier – Fifth Moon, 169 AC

Daena Targaryen

Daena had only been able to dream of something like this happening for years. For the longest time, she had thought she might even die a maiden. Never knowing an ounce of pleasure, intimacy, or love.

Her former husband had refused to bed her when they had been wed and once he had become King he had had their marriage annulled and then locked her away in the Maidenvault. Outwardly Daena had always raged against Baelor for that and mocked him for being unable or unwilling to see her beauty. Deep in her heart however, doubt had crept.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she truly so hideous to look upon? Was she so ugly that that men would rather lock her away and treat her like a curse than stand to see her?

As she stood there in her room in her name-day gown, naked before the gaze of a man for the first time in her life since Baelor had rejected her, all those old thoughts and fears came rushing back. She suddenly felt herself growing self-conscious as her cousin simply stared at her without saying a word.

“Do-do you not like it?” she asked nervously, unwilling to admit to herself that there were the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

To her pleasant surprise and joy, Daeron answered positively. “You are a vision like nothing I have ever seen before.”

Suddenly she was in his arms and Daena couldn’t help but giggle like a child at the thrill of it all. She was in awe at how easily he could carry her and soon he had laid her down on her bed and was wrapping his hands around her breasts and she gasped at the tender feeling of his fingers rubbing against her nipples.

It felt good. Better than she would have ever expected it to. Far better than her own scattered touches over lonely cold nights and long years in the Maidenvault.

“I see now why Baelor had to lock you in the Maidenvault because if the realm had known the full extent of your beauty there would have been wars for your hand. Every bard would sing songs of you, and every artist would do naught but draw your portrait,” Daeron said, punctuating every sentence with a wet warm kiss to her lips and breasts.

Daena for her part did her best to try and be unfazed by his words. He was just flattering her, she thought. Exaggerating. Being sweet so that she would be his even more. She knew all that, but she swooned, nonetheless.

Slowly, almost painfully, his lips traced south along the curves of her body from her lips and then to her neck and then down from her breasts across her stomach and her navel. It was like she was a goddess and he was her high priest, worshipping every inch of her skin.

Daena couldn’t help but shiver in delight and incapacitating anticipation as he drew closer and closer to her sweet spot and an uncharacteristic pleading whine escaped her lips when Daeron skipped past her womanhood to kiss along her thighs and legs.

Daeron chucked. “Patience, Daena,” he said, taunting her.

She couldn’t help but scowl in disbelief. They had been dancing around each other for so long that she had had plenty of time to imagine what their first time might be like. Somehow or another she had always imagined herself taking the lead, as the older one. She would bend her younger cousin to her will, take over his whole world, and make him a man.

Instead, she found herself at the mercy of a lad eight years her junior who hadn’t even come of age yet. Was this really his first time?? Had Aegon dragged his son off to some brothel and none of them had known about it? Where had all this arrogant confidence and skill come from?

Her thoughts were brutally cut off when suddenly, Daeron finally, finally placed his lips directly upon her womanhood and Daena almost screamed as he began licking at her insides and occasionally sucking upon the nub just above it. It felt so good it hurt, but it hurt so good.

As he continued to pleasure her, their eyes happened to meet as he gazed up at her seductively, his purple eyes darkened to a lustful black, and Daena felt herself going mad from the intense look in his eyes.

It wasn’t long before her pleasure soared to a familiar peak, yet more intensely than she had ever been able to achieve on her own. It was like the tidal wave of the sea, coming and going from somewhere deep within her and spreading out all over her skin as every muscle in her body squeezed and her legs trembled and shook uncontrollably while her hands wrapped around Daeron’s head and forced him to stay close, forced him not to stop because she was just so desperate for that crest to never stop.

Eventually, as all things must, that toe-curling pleasure ended but Daeron wasn’t finished with her yet. He kept going, kept licking and sucking at her womanhood and nub and caressing and touching all over her body, riding her back up to that crest over and over again, barely letting her come down before he would take her up again to the next new height of pleasure.

Daena almost screamed her voice hoarse with joy and numbing pleasure as her mind turned to mush and all her thoughts melted away as she sank into a soft, never-ending cloud of happiness and contentment.

She was so far gone that she barely felt any pain at all when Daeron finally slid home into her grasping cunt. Her maidenhead broke but she was so wet and eager that she only felt the slightest bit of soreness before it dawned on her just what had happened.

Daena felt so full, stretched and aching in all the right ways. Above her, Daeron shuddered, struggling not to spill within her and Daena allowed herself to smirk as she realized that her lover had finally found his match within her soft, silky quim.

He moved slowly at first, allowing her to adjust to his size and length as he explored her insides carefully. Daena felt her heart flutter at his consideration. Though part of it was no doubt him trying not to finish early, she found it sweet that he was being gentle with her for her first time.

Daena was a dragon though, and dragons did not do gentle. Before long she was urging for him to fuck her harder and faster, and Daeron complied. He speared her with his ‘lance’ like the knights would the haughty dragons in the tales of old and Daena almost guffawed at the thought.

Too late did she realize that he had spent those gentle first thrusts exploring her insides and finding all the sweet spots within her that even Daena had barely even known of herself. With a skill that belied his age and youth, he found several of them in short order and it wasn’t long before Daena was screaming again around him as he continued rubbing at her nub with one hand while kissing and teasing at her breasts with the other.

“Quiet,” Daeron rebuked as he placed his hand on her mouth. “What will you do if we’re caught?”

That thought shouldn’t have excited her so much but it did. She thought of how scandalized the court would be, of the horrified and pathetically jealous expression on Baelor’s face and the vindictively spiteful triumph it would bring her, and she came all over again, her insides squeezing down hard around Daeron’s manhood inside her while her legs trembled and locked around him.

“Fuck, Daena!” Daeron almost roared as he spilled inside her and the desperate urgency in his voice pleased her. She liked knowing that she could make him feel this way despite how much advantage he had had over her. That perverse feeling of thrill and triumph extended her own crest of pleasure almost as much as the feeling of Daeron’s warm seed spreading inside her womb.

In her mind’s eye she thought of his seed quickening, of her belly growing with his child, and a babe with her eyes and his strong features. And she wanted it so much more than she had ever thought possible. Bastard or not, a child was a symbol of everything Baelor had denied her for years and she wanted that future for herself, not just to spite him, but to have the joy of everything that had been taken from her.

Soon Daeron pulled out of her and Daena almost protested him doing so as she felt so empty without him inside her. The feeling didn’t last long before Daeron laid down on the bed beside her and pulled her beside him and she felt safe and content, wrapped around by his strong arms.

As she basked in the afterglow and allowed her feelings to settle, her eyes roamed over her lover appreciatively. Admiring the tone of his muscles and the wide broadness of his shoulders and the strength in his arms as he held her beside him.

She wouldn’t be able to escape even if she tried. And somehow that feeling made her happy instead of scared. Maybe because deep down she knew that Daeron would let her go if she really wanted it. He would hold onto her with everything he had when he could and let her go when it was needed. Baelor had never done either.

Part of her still couldn’t believe how much he had changed. Just a few months ago he had been a short, reedy, and thin little boy. A younger cousin she had tolerated and cared for as kin and because he had been Elaena’s friend, but not someone she had truly liked. He was too close to Baelor, too favorable to the Dornish he would soon be in bed with, and too timid and bookish for Daena to truly respect. In her eyes, Daeron had been unworthy of the name of the elder brother she had idolized and loved.

It was funny how quickly things had changed. In the span of a few months, Daeron had gone from all of that into someone she had found herself deeply attracted to. A handsome young squire whose stature and strength grew with every passing day. His resemblance to both his father and his namesake had grown as he became more of a warrior. He was already taller than her, and Daena’s heart fluttered at the thought of how much taller still he might be when he was a man grown.

Yet even more importantly than physical strength or stature, there was an iron in his spine now. A steel in his eyes and resolve. A quiet strength and confidence in his heart and mind that she couldn’t help but admire, especially when she remembered how much of it was her doing. How much she had molded him when he had come asking for guidance and counsel about Dorne. She felt extraordinarily pleased with her creation.

“We should have done this sooner,” she said finally, breathlessly. Her fingers traced over the ridges of his shoulder. “If I had known how good you were at making love, I would have invited you into my bed months ago.”

Daeron smiled and Daena’s heart skipped a beat as the smile spread to a twinkle in his eyes. He looked at her with an expression that she dared not name, for to do so would be to give herself hope, and hope was a cruel thing to have in the Maidenvault.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked curiously as his fingers played with the gold pendant her father had left her. She only just realized she hadn’t even taken it off while they had been having sex.

“I was worried, I suppose. The last person who had almost been in bed with me was Baelor and you and I both know how that ended. I guess deep down I was worried that you’d end up the same as him, especially since he’d taught you for so long. That you’d find a fault of some kind in me as he did,” Daena admitted, surprising even herself with her honesty.

As she saw the understanding dawn on Daeron’s face, she decided she might as well go all the way if she’d already said this much.

“And another part of me hesitated as I remembered just how much younger than me you were. I wondered if it was right of me to do this, to take your first when you were still so young and innocent and promised to someone else.”

At that Daeron laughed. “I suppose that assumption of yours died very quickly, didn’t it?”

Daena blushed and punched his shoulder. “It’s not funny. I was worried for so long that I might be taking advantage of you only for it to turn out that you knew even more about all of this than I did. How are you so experienced? Did your father take you to some pleasure house or something?” she demanded, secretly fearing his answer.

Daeron shuddered, as if the very thought was revolting and Daena couldn’t lie to herself about the relief that gave her. “Heavens no.”

“Then, how?” Daena asked.

He sighed. “Promise me you won’t laugh?”

Daena promised.

Daeron averted his eyes almost shyly and Daena couldn’t help but think of how cute he was. “I read about it.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at that despite her promise, making Daeron protest before she confessed a secret of her own.

“I did too,” she said. “Books and other writings that Elaena and I had been able to sneak in one way or another with the help of our ladies. It was all I had for so long in the Maidenvault, but nothing could compare to the real thing,” she said earnestly.

A smirk came to Daeron’s face then as he came in close to whisper in her ears. “I’ll be happy to help you try out everything you read about in your books,” he said seductively and despite herself, Daena felt her cheeks burning as she blushed red.

Damn this boy! How was she still being played like a fiddle by a man eight years her junior??

Yet even as she complained and reprimanded him for his cheekiness, she felt that sliver of hope and joy in her heart continue to grow dangerously large and she knew that she would do whatever it took to have Daeron as her husband.

She had already taken him from Baelor, stolen her oh so pious brother’s protégé from right out under him. There was no way in the seven hells she was going to let some Martell whore take him away to Dorne and lose him as she’d lost his namesake. No, Daeron was hers. Someone she could call her own, someone who loved her and wanted her instead of setting her aside and locking her away.

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The past week had been the best in Daena’s life for as long as she could remember. She hadn’t felt joy like this before, not even when her brother, father, and mother had all still been alive. If this was what falling in love felt like, then no wonder so many songs and tales had been made about it.

Every morn she would awake in a better mood than the one before, eagerly going about her day and waiting patiently until dusk when her lover would come to the Maidenvault and they would try out yet another position or scenario from her books. She couldn’t help but be amused at how easy it was since Daeron was permitted entry into the Maidenvault by Baelor. If she had tried to make Aegon or anyone else her lover she’d have been lucky to have them even for one night but with Daeron she could have him every night with none the wiser.

It was exciting, it was pleasurable, it was fun, and most importantly of all, it was loving. Lust came easily but love was rare and precious and Daena felt loved like she had never felt before. Safe and content in the arms of someone she was steadily falling more and more in love with.

If anything, the only issue she was having was that it was too much of a good thing. Daeron’s appetite was voracious and Daena was having a little trouble keeping up even with her own ardor after all those years of repression and imprisonment in the Maidenvault. But it was a challenge she was more than happy to try and overcome.

She was so lost in her pleasant thoughts that she had to be shaken back to the present for dinner.

“Daena? Where have you gone?” Elaena said, pinching her arm.

“Forgive me Elaena, I was thinking of a pleasant dream I had,” she lied glibly while rubbing the sore skin where her youngest sister had pinched her.

“That is good to hear. I’m happy for you sister. The Seven bless the virtuous with good dreams,” Rhaena interjected and for once Daena didn’t retort with some mocking jibe about the Seven.

Even now she was still annoyed by Rhaena’s incessant piety, especially with how much it reminded her of Baelor’s and how inexplicably content Rhaena was to accept confinement in the Maidenvault. Yet she was in enough of a good mood not to question it, even when Rhaena insisted on saying grace before their meal.

Her good mood and lack of protest did not go unnoticed, however.

“That is rather strange,” Rhaena commented. “Normally you’d make such a fuss about saying grace before meals. What’s gotten into you today?” she asked, concerned.

“I’m just in a good enough mood from my dream, I guess. And I suppose I’m tired of always fighting with you over such a small thing,” Daena replied, trying to think of a good excuse.

She wasn’t even completely lying. She did miss when her relationship with Rhaena hadn’t been so tense. Before the Maidenvault, before Daeron had died, when Rhaena had been her closest companion and hadn’t been so insufferably pious in a vain attempt to win Baelor’s favor.

Rhaena smiled serenely. “Must have been quite the dream then, what was it about?”

The feeling of Daeron in her arms and the tantalizing vision of what their life could be if she ever was released from the Maidenvault ran through her mind. “A joyful future,” Daena confessed truthfully. “Of what life could be when we are finally released from the Maidenvault.”

At that, both of her sisters froze and seemed to look at her with pity in their eyes.

“Daena,” Rhaena began but she cut her off.

“Have you truly never thought of what our life could be Rhaena? Of what it should be?” Daena said defensively. “Our confinement here isn’t normal. You know that. Nowhere in the Seven-Pointed Star does it call for women to be locked away in confinement, neither allowed to be mothers and wives nor septas and servants of the Seven. It’s unnatural. It’s ungodly. Have you never chafed against Baelor’s restrictions? His imprisonment of his own sisters?”

Rhaena sighed and just when Daena thought they were about to get into yet another argument on the topic, she did something Daena never would have expected. She spoke earnestly.

“Yes. I have. I’ve struggled to reconcile it so many times. The Seven-Pointed Star calls for women to live either two lives, that of the laity who become wives and mothers, or that of the religious who become celibate septas and serve the Faith. Baelor allows us neither. He’s even refused all my entreaties to be freed so that I might become a septa. There’s so much good that I could do for the Faith and the people, yet he will not hear of it. I remain confined here and… I am not pleased about that.

“Yet what is there to do about it, Daena? He is our brother and King. He is the head of our house and we owe him fealty and obedience. This too is in the teachings of the Seven. Unfair and unjust or whatever else we may label his commands, it does not change that they are lawful, nor that there is nothing we can do about it.

“I am sorry Daena. I wish you could have the life you want. I wish we all could have the lives we want. But I’m tired of hoping for that future and I’m tired of fighting with you about it,” Rhaena said.

To Rhaena’s shock, Daena grabbed her hands and held them. “Thank you, Rhaena.”

Rhaena was confused. “Whatever for?”

“For being honest with me. For the first time in eight years, you’ve finally shown me that the girl I grew up with is still down there. That you’re not just some content puppet dancing along to Baelor’s strings. That you feel confined here just as I do, barred from your hopes and dreams just as I am.

“And I don’t know much comfort my words will be, but I want to assure you. One day, we will be released from this prison and we will be able to pursue our dreams. No matter what it takes, I’ll make sure it happens,” Daena promised her.

Rhaena did not seem to know what to make of her words but eventually it seemed she decided to take them in stride. She returned Daena’s embrace and hugged her as they had not hugged in years and murmured a quiet thank you before returning to her meal, leaving Daena to her thoughts.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Elaena watching her curiously but she thought nothing of it. Once she had finished with her supper, Daena made her way back to her room where she eagerly waited for Daeron to join her and give her another magical night to remember.

To her consternation, however, she found Elaena waiting there for her when she entered.

“Elaena? What are you doing in my room? Get out!” Daena demanded, aghast and with all the tempestuousness of an elder sister shooing the younger.

Elaena only smiled wryly. “Afraid I’ll still be here when Daeron comes?”

Daena froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh Daena. You’re not as subtle or quiet as you think you are. How the others haven’t pieced it already I don’t know. You can be rather loud at night, and your mood during the rest of the day is even more suspect. You’re just so happy and filled with joy,” Elaena said, as if trying to be calculating and logical but Daena could sense the tint of jealousy lining her words.

“What do you want Elaena?” Daena asked bluntly.

“I want Daeron,” Elaena said, cutting to the chase.

“Out of the question,” Daena retorted, stunned by her sister’s brazenness.

At her refusal, an ugly jealous look like nothing Daena had ever seen came upon her sister’s face. Uglier even than the rage when she had cut her lovely hair and Baelor had still refused to let her out of the Maidenvault, uglier than the grief and anger when their brother had been killed by Dornish treachery.

“He’s mine! You stole him from me! And if you won’t let me have him, then I’ll make sure you won’t either,” Elaena said menacingly.

Daena had a bad feeling about that. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure Baelor would love to know what you’ve been getting up to with Daeron dear sister. It would be so easy for him to make sure it never happens again,” Elaena threatened.

At that, Daena’s own rage ignited. She couldn’t believe her dear little sister would stoop to such lows. “Are you mad? What on earth do you even mean that I stole him from you? And I thought better of you Elaena. You’re really willing to go this far? Threatening your own sister out of what? Jealousy? You are aware that I won’t even really be punished for it right? All the punishment will fall on Daeron. Who knows what Baelor will do to him! He certainly won’t ever be allowed back in the Maidenvault, that’s for sure. Is that what you really want?” she demanded, outraged.

The last thing Daena would have expected was for Elaena to burst into tears. “No,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what to do. Daeron was mine first. He was my friend while you spent years ignoring him and then once he became handsome and strong, once he finally started paying attention to me again instead of his Dornish princess, you swooped in and took him from me.”

Daena was at a loss. Had this weeping girl really just threatened to blackmail her if she hadn’t given her what she wanted?

It was at times like this that she was reminded that Elaena was so much younger than she was and not that much older than Daeron himself. As Elaena continued to cry and shrink into herself, Daena couldn’t help but think of the little girl that had followed her everywhere. For a split second, the older sister won out over the protective lover and she led her younger sister to sit on the bed beside her.

Before long, Elaena was sobbing into her shoulder and murmuring her apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry mandia. I was just so angry. I didn’t want you to take him away from me. He’s my last true friend.”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Daena soothed her, humming as she ran her hand calmingly down her back just as she had used to when Elaena had been very young. Their mother had died in childbirth with Elaena; Daena and Rhaena had been the closest thing to a mother she had ever had.

“I heard you both that first night,” Elaena confessed. “You both sounded so happy and I wanted to be happy for you both. More than anything. But the more I thought about it, the more my jealousy grew. Festering inside me like a dark pit. It wasn’t fair. Why did you get to have him when I had been there for him when no one else was? Why are you the one he loves when I am his oldest friend?”

As she consoled her baby sister, Daena couldn’t help but think again just how tragic this all was. She cursed Baelor yet again. In another life, Daeron and Elaena might have been happy together and she would have been content to have married someone else, maybe even their brother by the same name. Yet as things stood, she would never give Daeron up. Not to Elaena or anyone else. She had tasted too much of his love to bear losing it.

She couldn’t help but feel sad and a little guilty though. By pursuing Daeron, had she taken what little chance for love Elaena had left? Despite her promise to Rhaena, it didn’t seem like Baelor was going to die anytime soon. Even if she did succeed in marrying Daeron as she wished and escaped the Maidenvault by doing so, Elaena would remain trapped here, alone and loveless.

Daena couldn’t help but feel her heart break at the thought of that sad and lonely future for her dear baby sister. She wished there was a way they could both be happy.

An idea occurred to her then. A bad idea. A very, very bad idea. It was so bad she couldn’t believe she was even considering it but it might just work. It could give her and Elaena both what they wanted and further tweak Baelor’s nose for good measure. That didn’t change that it was a stupid plan though, one that probably wouldn’t work in all likelihood and risked destroying her relationship with both Daeron and Elaena but damn it all if life wasn’t worth living without a little risk.

She had been wondering if Daeron’s passion might just be a little too much for her, Daena thought dryly. What better solution than to graciously share that pleasure with the dear younger sister she had been so close to for so long? The pleasure they had both been denied by Baelor’s unjust imprisonment.

Hadn’t she been thinking about how happy she was to be so loved? It would be cruel and selfish of her to hoard that all to herself, Daena thought to herself, trying her best to rationalize her decisions. She would be a bad big sister if she didn’t share that joy with Elaena and give her some happiness to light up her dull days in the Maidenvault.

A sudden thought crossed her mind. Elaena, on her bed, squealing as she was made a mess and driven absolutely wild by Daeron just as she had been. Daena squirmed where she sat, crossing her legs as she tried to not think about how strangely arousing she found the idea and how much she might just enjoy watching it happen.

This was a good idea, she convinced herself, her more rational thinking fading away by the second. as she told Elaena what she had in mind. They only had so much time to plan before Daeron arrived after all. And oh would he be in for the time of his life.

Daena hoped he enjoyed it.

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Author’s Note: Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the second chapter of Dragonlance! How was the spice? I’m a bit out of practice since I wrote the scenes in D&C so I’m worried it’s not good.

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