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“Leave me,” Myrcella said softly but commandingly as she beheld the sight before her.

Her green eyes were already filled with tears, but she refused to weep in front of her guards and servants; a lesson she learned from one of the people in front of her.

“Yes, your grace,” the guards said dutifully and almost in unison.

Only once the door closed did she allow herself to break down, wailing as she clutched the skirts of her mother’s dress in her hands. She had known what she was going to find when she returned to the room she’d left her parents in. Part of her might have hoped that her father wouldn’t choose to die with her mother, but then, he likely couldn’t imagine a world without her, having followed her into the world so closely. Jaime and Cersei Lannister, the two people arguably most responsible for the crisis they were all still engulfed in were dead and on her orders.

“This is madness!” Cersei snarled. “Where are our loyal lords? Where are our armies?”

“Mostly dead, sweet sister,” Jaime said sardonically. “Those who lived through the earlier phases of the war mostly burned in the Reach.”

“No, no!” Cersei growled, pacing back and forth. “It can’t end like this. We didn’t survive Robert, Renly, the Starks, Stannis, and the fucking High Sparrow just to have everything taken from us by some foreign whore and a bastard. I refuse!”

“She was born here, wasn’t she?” Myrcella asked, having just sat and let her mother and uncle speak up to that point.

“On Dragonstone, I believe,” Jaime said. “She’d have spent hours there at most, though.”

“What does it matter where the bitch was born?!” Cersei snarled.

“It doesn’t,” Myrcella said. “Nothing matters save for the fact that she and her husband have dragons and we do not.”

“They’re not unkillable,” Cersei argued. “The Dornish…”

“Were exceptionally lucky,” Myrcella interrupted her. “The Targaryen’s dragons seemed pretty unkillable in the Reach. They were equally unkillable against that mad pirate you promised my cunt to if he succeeded in killing the Targaryens.”

“You know as well as I do that I would have had him killed had it come to that,” Cersei said dismissively while Jaime stiffened.

“Well, it didn’t, because he died,” Myrcella said, “just like the rest of them. Face it, Mother, we’re out of allies, armies, and options.”

“No, no, no,” Cersei wept as Jaime wrapped his arms around her.

Myrcella wished she could care like her mother still did. She wished that she felt...anything really, but her feelings started leaving her when the man she called Father died, and the last of them went with the only brother she ever loved. Daenerys and Daemon Targaryen were coming. Two dragonlords who grew up apart, one in Essos and the other in the North, unaware of who he really was. It would all be over soon, and though Myrcella feared for what family and friends she had left, she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t feel just a little relieved by that fact.

“The only reason they haven’t attacked yet is probably because they’re reluctant to just burn the city to the ground,” Myrcella said, “but that reluctance won’t hold them at bay forever, nor will we survive a protracted siege.”

“That’s it!” her mother exclaimed, her emerald eyes taking on a manic look. “We threaten to burn the city if they don’t surrender, or no! We do burn it.”

“What?!” Myrcella exclaimed.

“Cersei!” Jaime snapped.

“Don’t Cersei me, it’s the only option we have left,” Cersei spat, glaring at her brother and lover. “We will not be beaten. I will not be beaten. We just have to invite them in for talks, discuss our surrender, and then make this shit-filled city their grave. Who knows? Perhaps if we wait it out in the caverns under the keep, we’ll survive.”

“Mother, we’re not killing the people of this city,” Myrcella said.

“Fuck them,” Cersei spat. “They were happy enough to laugh and jeer and throw shit at me when I was at my lowest. They learned their lesson with the Sept. Let them learn it again.”

“Even if we wanted to do that, which we absolutely don’t, there isn’t enough wildfire left,” Jaime said, sounding like he was trying to make himself feel better more than anything.

“Oh, there’s plenty,” Cersei said, an eerily calm smile on her face. “I had Qyburn get the pyromancers to make more, just as a last resort. I would have mentioned it sooner, but I forgot. I’ve been forgetting more and more of late.”

She downed the rest of her goblet of wine as Jaime and Myrcella both stared at her in horror. The young queen realized in that moment just how blind to reality she’d really been. As she looked at her mother now, she saw just how large and dark the bags under her eyes were, how red and not entirely focused her eyes were, and just how generally bad she looked. The war had taken its toll on all of them, but she wondered if her mother hadn’t suffered the worst effects.

Myrcella looked at her uncle, the man she had acknowledged as her father only once and rarely did, even in the safety of her own mind, and saw the pain in his eyes. It was amazing, just how much you could convey in a glance. Pain, sympathy, grief, and a determination that was laced with horror all filled those eyes that looked so much like hers. He knew what he had to do. It was the same thing that he had done before to stop this city from being destroyed, something she only knew about because she had all but ordered him to tell her why he killed the mad king after she took the throne. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and his eyes grew misty. He looked almost betrayed, as though some part of him had hoped that she might stop him, but they both knew that she couldn’t do that.

“I need to get out of the stifling castle for a few minutes,” Myrcella said at last.

“It’s not safe,” Cersei argued automatically.

“I’m not going into the city,” Myrcella said. “I just want to stand under the sun for a while. You two stay and discuss this latest plan. I’ll listen to what you come up with when I return.”

Without another word, she got up and left the room. It had taken her a while to get used to the idea that she was inherently right in all things and didn’t need to ask permission from anyone to do anything anymore, but she had been queen for a few moons now. She almost laughed as she realized that she wasn’t even going to match Tommen’s short reign.

“Your Grace,” the guards outside the door said, bowing their heads respectfully as she passed.

The moment she had the door closed behind her, she said quietly, “Find Qyburn and take his head.”

“What?” the guards asked, clearly shocked.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Myrcella said coldly, “and don’t involve anyone else. I’m entrusting the task to you.”

“Your will be done, your grace,” one of the guards said.

The grief poured out of her as she cried, mourning the last of her immediate family that she had left. Everything that had been bottled up inside her ever since she learned that Tommen had jumped to his death came back to the surface and spilled out. She couldn’t say how long she stayed with her parent’s bodies, feeling something for the first time in moons, but by the time her tears dried up, the sun was setting. She cleaned herself up as best she could and held her head high as she opened the door.

“Oh gods, Cella, I’m so sorry,” Rosamund, her cousin, handmaid, and dearest friend, said. She had started calling her ‘your grace’ after she was crowned until she outright ordered her to stop.

“Wine,” Myrcella rasped.

“Oh, of course,” Rosamund said. “Wine! Bring the queen wine.”

A servant came by quickly enough with a pitcher and a goblet, though Myrcella grabbed the pitcher and drank from it to soothe her aching throat.

“The queen mother and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard are dead,” she said as soon as her voice returned to normal. “Wrap their bodies in linen and prepare them to be burned.”

“Burned?” Rosamund asked, furrowing her brow.

“If the worst comes, I don’t want there to be anything left of them to defile,” Myrcella explained as she made her way towards her chambers.

This game of cyvasse had reached its end, and there was only one move left to make.

*****

She had waited two days after her parents died to send word to the Targaryens, who had recently returned to Dragonstone from an extended trip to the North. Her request was a simple one: to meet with them to discuss terms just outside the walls of King’s Landing. She hadn’t expected them to outright refuse her, but she was a little surprised by the fact that they attached no conditions to the meeting.

“I suppose when you have three dragons and most of the kingdoms already under your command, you can afford to be confident,” Myrcella thought to herself as the bulk of the attendees arrived at the makeshift camp her men had set up.

She waited on the high-backed chair that had been brought out for her as various nobles who had sided with the Targaryens approached. She recognized a few of them as men whom she had seen before in the various tourneys that had been thrown when she was a girl. Most of those men were dead by now, she was sure, but clearly some had been lucky enough to survive the war. The only one who truly stood out stood head and shoulders beneath most, and yet his presence drew her eye immediately. He had a small golden hand pinned to his doublet, much as he had the last time she saw him, and yet he served a very different monarch this time.

“Niece,” Tyrion said as he drew close.

“Uncle,” Myrcella replied shortly.

Looking around, he asked, “Where are Jaime and Cersei?”

“Dead,” Myrcella replied.

Her uncle’s mismatched eyes widened in shock, and she was surprised to see actual pain in them. For her father, she supposed, as he had never cared for her mother. She might have been more delicate in informing him of their deaths, as she had once cared for the diminutive man before her. No one could ever make her laugh quite like her Uncle Tyrion. Her sympathy for him was severely limited, however, as his murder of her grandfather, his own father, had been the death blow to their entire family.

“Where are the man and woman who pinned that hand to your chest?” Myrcella asked.

Before he could reply, deafening cries echoed down from the skies, and through the clouds emerged three massive dragons. Myrcella’s eyes widened at the sight, and, as proof that some small part of the happy little girl she’d once been still existed somewhere inside her, she felt a smidge of excitement along with the fear that came with the sight of them. Two of them had riders, and as they landed in the middle of the camp, Myrcella’s breath hitched.

“By the gods,” she thought to herself as they descended from the green and black dragons, respectively.

They were, respectively, the most handsome man and beautiful woman she had ever seen. Dressed in all black, save for his crimson cloak, Daemon Targaryen stood tall and broad, every inch of him a warrior. As he removed his dragon helm, she saw that his long face matched his body perfectly, with a strong, square jaw, high cheek bones. His nose was long and straight, his lips were full, and his dark purple eyes made her insides flutter in a way she hadn’t felt in ages.

His wife was beautiful in a way that no woman Myrcella had ever seen was. There were certain similarities to them, as her heart-shaped face also had high cheekbones and full lips, but she was small, being slightly shorter than Myrcella, where Daemon was huge, and her eyes were a lighter shade of violet. Her hair, which was the true silver-gold of the Valyrians, unlike his brown, was long and intricately braided.

“My Lady,” Daenerys said, taking the lead.

“My Lady,” Myrcella replied in kind, not taking offense at her lack of title.

Daenerys bristled slightly but said nothing.

“Your letter stated that you wished to discuss your surrender,” Daemon said.

“I wished to discuss terms,” Myrcella clarified.

“Myrc...my lady, you’re not exactly in a position to dictate terms,” Tyrion said softly.

“No, I’m not,” Myrcella admitted, “but then, if you were willing to just take the city by force, it would already be on fire.”

“We have no interest in burning the city my illustrious ancestors founded to ash,” Daenerys said.

“That said, we have the city cut off from land and sea,” Daemon said, “and we can keep it cut off indefinitely.”

“You could besiege us, true,” Myrcella said, “but more might die in a protracted siege than would if you just stormed it with your dragons. My terms are neither extensive nor unreasonable, but if you are unwilling to hear them, then we can be on our way.”

“No,” Tyrion cut in forcefully. “Just say what you want.”

Myrcella looked to Daemon and Daenerys, and when Daemon nodded, she said, “First off, I want assurances that my ladies-in-waiting will be unharmed, including my cousin Rosamund.”

“The king and queen are not in the habit of harming the innocent,” Tyrion said.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t accept the word of a traitor and kinslayer,” Myrcella said, and her uncle flinched as though struck. Looking towards the dragonlords, she said, “I would accept yours, of course.”

“Then you have it,” Daemon said. “Your ladies will not be punished for things they did not do.”

“Unlike your grandfather, we are not, as Tyrion said, in the habit of killing the innocent,” Daenerys said.

“Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon were innocent when Aerys Targaryen called for their heads,” Myrcella said calmly. “I am no more responsible for my grandfather’s actions than you are for your father’s.”

Daenerys’ violet eyes flashed with anger for a moment before looking more sympathetic. “What other terms did you have in mind?”

“Just one,” Myrcella replied. “You have three dragons, and I would like to meet the one who has no rider.”

“What?” Daenerys asked, looking shocked.

“Myrcella, you can’t!” Tyrion exclaimed.

“Viserion will almost certainly kill you,” Daemon said, “even if he is the calmest of the three.”

“Oh, I know,” Myrcella said.

“Then why?” Tyrion asked, sounding both pained and confused.

“I’m tired,” Myrcella sighed. “I’m tired of this role I wanted not, of this war I played no part in, and yet am stuck bringing to an end because everyone else is dead. If Viserion kills me, then my men will have no one else to fight for, so let me live out this one childhood fantasy of meeting a dragon, and come what may, you will have my surrender.”

“Your Grace,” a couple of her guards piped in unison.

“Be silent,” Myrcella commanded.

“If that is what you want, then I see no reason to refuse you,” Daenerys said, pointedly not looking at a betrayed-looking Tyrion.

She called over her cream-colored dragon, who purred affectionately at his mother as she approached and stayed in place as she backed away. Rising from her chair, Myrcella ordered her men to stay put and approached the dragon slowly.

“I wonder if this is how Rhaenyra felt at the end,” she wondered to herself. “Probably not quite as resigned, as she had children left, but likely about as weary.”

The dragon perked up as he spotted her approaching and cocked his head as he stared at her. He hadn’t engulfed her in flames yet, which was a good sign, but when he let out a low growl, she paused. Standing just a few feet from him, she held out her hand and met his gaze, waiting to see what he would do. Slowly, his massive head approached her, and his mouth opened. As she stared at his gaping maw and saw golden flames within, she closed her eyes and felt the last few years of stress and horror seep out of her in an instant. Utterly relaxed, she grunted when she felt his snout press into her hand and opened her eyes to see him just a couple feet from her.

“What the fuck?” she heard Daemon ask quietly.

Viserion was immensely warm to the touch, and Myrcella giggled as she petted him. Unsure of how long it had been since she laughed, she continued to stroke his gorgeous scales as, all around her, men and women stared in confusion.

*****

“It’s all yours,” Myrcella said as she stared at the iron throne with her new king and queen by her side.

The other had left, save for the monarchs and her uncle. The room had been packed when she knelt before them and pledged her fealty while handing over her crown, and they had departed afterward. It all seemed rather anticlimactic after all of the chaos of the last few years.

“It’s larger than I expected,” Daemon commented.

“Word of warning, it is as uncomfortable as it looks,” Myrcella said.

“That was the point,” Daenerys said as she stared at the throne. “The conqueror believed that no king should sit comfortably.”

“I wonder if he felt the same way about beds,” Myrcella mused, feeling lighter than she had in years. “It might explain why he had only two children.”

Tyrion snorted at that before saying, “Alright, we’re alone now. How in the seven hells did you know that Viserion wouldn’t roast you alive?”

“I didn’t,” Myrcella replied, keeping her eyes on Daenerys and Daemon. “When I was young, I was exploring one of the secret passageways in the keep when I overheard a few of the older guards, who had clearly been drinking, talking about an old rumor about my grandparents and the mad king. They said it was rumored that Aerys had always wanted my grandmother and that he was forced to marry Queen Rhaella. One of them said that it was rumored that the two of them had been involved and that what caused the rift between him and my grandfather was his suspicion that the king had had her both before and after their wedding.”

The men had also said that the rumor was that the mad king forced himself on her, but there was no point in mentioning that just then.

“You don’t mean…” Tyrion said, his eyes widening in shock.

“It would explain why they were so drawn to each other,” Myrcella said, “if it was genuinely in their blood. It might explain that dark eye of yours as well, though I will leave you to decide whether you, being Aerys’ son or my grandfather’s only actual child, amuses you more.”

“That would make you…” Daemon went to say.

“Jaime Lannister was my father,” Myrcella said. “There’s no point in denying that now. If what I suspect is true, and Viserion’s friendliness would suggest it is, then I am a bastard twice over.”

“That…” Tyrion stammered, stumbling back as though drunk, which for once, she suspected, he wasn’t.

“My Lord Hand, I think you should retire to your old chambers,” Daenerys said. “This is a lot to consider.”

“You’ll find them somewhat changed since you were last here,” Myrcella said. “Mother burned the tower down after you escaped.”

“Right,” Tyrion said, stumbling away.

“What are we going to do with you?” Daemon asked aloud once Tyrion was gone.

Being up close with the two of them, she found herself even more taken aback by just how intoxicatingly beautiful they were.

“To be honest, I gave no real thought to my own fate,” Myrcella said. “I wanted to ensure that my ladies, the only people I had left in the world, would be kept safe. While I wanted to test out the guards’ theory, I didn’t truly believe it and figured that dragon fire would at least be quick.”

“We’re not going to kill you,” Daenerys said softly. “As you said, you’re guilty of nothing save for your family name.”

“And neither of them are even mine,” Myrcella laughed humorlessly.

“Were you a man, I would say taking the black is your best course,” Daemon mused.

“That didn’t work out so well for the last women to try it,” Myrcella said.

“The silent sisters are an option,” Daenerys commented, “though perhaps becoming a simple septa might be better.”

As she looked back and forth between the pair of them, a stray thought occurred to her that made her flush a bright red.

“What’s wrong?” Daenerys asked, noting the change in her appearance.

“Nothing,” Myrcella said, shaking her head. “By the way, your family’s old crowns are in storage below the keep, as are the dragon skulls. The crowns, I think Robert kept as trophies.”

“Thank you,” Daenerys said.

“Um, if I could ask, how did you two meet?” Myrcella asked, her traitorous mind going back to her most outrageous idea. “Varys never gave us a clear answer on that before he departed.”

“My uncle Benjen told me that he suspected I was his sister’s son rather than his brother’s,” Daemon replied. “When I got to the wall, the ancient and blind maester there, who turned out to be Maekar’s son, Aemon Targaryen, felt my face and said that I felt like one of his kin. He gave me Dark Sister, which had been discovered where it was hidden by Bloodraven decades earlier, and tasked me with tracking down and aiding Daenerys and Viserys.”

“He found me in Yunkai, one of the cities in Dragon’s Bay, and pledged his service to me,” Daenerys continued, looking longingly at him. “Before long, I was utterly besotted, and when he asked me to marry him, I said yes.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Myrcella thought to herself, and it was only when the two of them looked at her that she realized she’d spoken aloud.

As she turned a shade of red that she imagined matched the Lannister’s banner, Daemon chuckled and continued, saying, “We confirmed who I was when I managed to bond with Rhaegal, but only learned my true name and trueborn origins when we returned to Westeros and met with Lord Howland Reed, who was there when my uncle discovered me and my mother on the birthing bed.”

“Prince Rhaegar married Lady Lyanna,” Myrcella said. “Your proclamation stated as much. So you two have been together for a few years now.”

“We have,” Daemon said, smiling down at his wife.

“And yet, you have no children,” Myrcella said as delicately as she could. It was one of her mother’s favorite things to throw out about their Targaryen rivals.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” Daenerys said, her eyes narrowing.

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Myrcella said, holding her hands up in front of her, “but as king and queen, you will need heirs.”

“We’ll conceive yet,” Daemon said.

“You’ve been saying that for years,” Daenerys hissed.

“It took the conqueror and Visenya years to have a child,” Daemon retorted, and she suspected it wasn’t the first time he had used the argument.

“Using magic that we have no clue about, if rumors are to be believed,” Daenerys countered, “and look how that turned out. Even ignoring the sort of man Maegor was, he could not have children.”

She knew it was a bad idea, that even suggesting it could easily result in her death, but she had been prepared to die today anyway, and she found the idea too tempting to ignore.

“You could use me,” Myrcella said, and the room went silent.

“What?” Daenerys asked flatly.

“I have no name, no title, and no future,” Myrcella said. “All I have is my beauty and the blood in my veins, blood that, according to Viserion, I likely share with you.”

“Viserion has always been the most even-tempered of them,” Daemon said.

“And how many people has he allowed to scratch his chin?” Myrcella asked. Speaking much more quietly, she said, “You will need heirs, and you need to figure out something to do with me. You could keep me in some part of Dragonstone, as comfortable as you’re willing, and put your heirs in me. Wear bulky clothes and fake your pregnancies, and you can pass the children I have off as yours.”

“Perhaps you really are my father’s granddaughter,” Daenerys said dryly, while Daemon looked too stunned to speak.

“Myrcella, that…” he stammered.

“Dovaogēdy,” Daenerys called out, and two of her Unsullied approached. “Escort Lady Myrcella to quarters of her choice. Not the royal ones, of course.”

Myrcella just nodded at that.

“She’ll know the way,” Daenerys said, and she was off, summarily dismissed by her new queen, while her king looked pensive.

*****

“You can’t seriously be considering this,” Daemon hissed while Daenerys relaxed on the bed in their new chambers. The bedding had been changed quickly, and she wanted nothing more than to test it out as soon as she spotted it.

“I’ve been considering this for some time,” Daenerys said. “Our family’s dynasty might be old, but we are starting it anew. The sheer exhaustion of our people will work in our favor for the time being, but new dynasties are always fraught with challenges, and we don’t need to give the lords any reason to get ideas.”

“They can answer to Rhaegal and Drogon if so,” Daemon snarled.

“Neither one of us wants to be a Maegor, my love,” Daenerys said softly. “We need to secure the succession. Who would even be our heir right now? One of your sisters?”

Daemon snorted at that, despite himself.

“We need children, Daemon,” Daenerys said.

“It’s only been…”

“It’s been years!” Daenerys cried, the old wound in her soul tearing open as she forced herself to grapple with her reality. “It’s been years, and yet my womb has not quickened. The gods know we’ve tried often enough.”

Daemon’s lips quirked up at that, in contrast to the grief on his face.

“What if I’m the problem?” he asked softly. “I mean, I’m the only one that you’ve…”

“We both know what and who the problem is,” Daenerys said, her eyes growing misty, and Daemon wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight. “That witch cursed me when she killed my Rhaego. I will never have children.”

“I wish I could kill her myself,” Daemon snarled.

“She died screaming in agony, I assure you,” Daenerys said darkly.

“This is our only option, isn’t it?” Daemon asked, burying his face in her hair.

“I’ve been considering something like it for a while,” Daenerys admitted. “I started thinking about...erm...hiring someone.”

“A whore?!” Daemon exclaimed.

“Not an actual whore, just some poor woman, I could make a very rich woman in exchange,” Daenerys clarified. “I was thinking about possibly finding another woman with hair and eyes like mine so that the child would look like us, but then I worried about finding someone I could trust. As I thought about the number of women I could actually trust with this, all I could imagine were my handmaidens, and even then…”

“You would trust Myrcella, though?” Daemon asked.

“She seems as sweet as Tyrion claimed she was,” Daenerys said, “and while she might have the Lannister coloring, if she truly is of our blood, then the chances of the two of you having a child that looks like me are greater than they would be with Missandei, Irri, or Jhiqui. We also hold her life in our hand,s and her only remaining family is her uncle, who serves as our hand, and her cousin, whom I was thinking of wedding to one of our allies. She’s also quite beautiful.”

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever…” Daemon trailed off.

“I know,” Daenerys said, smiling sadly, “though I wouldn’t have guessed that first night.”

“I think I lasted five seconds,” Daemon said dryly.

“The first time,” Daenerys soothed, “and you had already given me more pleasure than Drogo ever did. As fond as I am of your cock, your tongue will always have a special place in my heart.”

“There’s an image,” Daemon chuckled.

“Yes,” Daenerys said. “Never eat raw heart. It’s most unpleasant.”

“Chewy, I imagine,” Daemon said, earning a small smile. “So, um, how exactly will we do this?”

“You are far too practiced to need my instruction at this point,” Daenerys quipped, and she shrieked as he swatted her arse.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Daemon said. “Are we really going to lock her away in some tower and fake your pregnancies?”

“No to the tower, and we’ll need to think about the deception,” Daenerys said. “The people of these lands take poorly to bastards, even legitimized ones, and while a dragonrider bastard would be somewhat different, if we could manage to convince the people that I had the child, it would simplify things.”

“It’s going to be strange bedding another woman and then crawling into our bed,” Daemon sighed. “I’ll wash myself, of course, but…”

“Um,” Daenerys said, looking away.

“What is it?” Daemon asked.

“Uh, when I told you that prior to you, Drogo was the only other man that I’d had, that was true, but he wasn’t my only prior lover,” Daenerys said.

“What?” Daemon asked. “The Dothraki didn’t make you bed some young boy, did they?”

“What?” Daenerys asked incredulously.

“They made you eat a raw horse’s heart while they chanted around you,” Daemon said defensively. “Their ways are strange.”

“No,” Daenerys said, laughing lightly. “One of my handmaidens, who died before we met, was the one who taught me how to bed a man.”

“Taught you how?” Daemon asked, his purple eyes darkening with lust as his mind raced with images of his wife in bed with another woman.

Daenerys grinned as she saw his look of desire and took a step forward. Tracing a finger down his chest, she said, “Her name was Doreah, and she was very beautiful with skin the color of cream, sky-blue eyes, and long golden hair. She had been a pleasure slave and was very well trained in her craft.”

Daemon felt his breeches tighten considerably at her breathy tone and the images in his head.

“Viserys gave her to me so that she could teach me how to make Drogo happy, and she was a very...hands-on teacher,” Daenerys purred, smirking as she felt his hard cock press against her. “The two of us spent countless nights together in bed as she taught me the meaning of pleasure, though I wouldn’t learn its true meaning until I impaled myself on your incredible cock.”

It was an exaggeration on her part, but the look on Daemon’s face usually meant the sort of night that left her sweaty, glassy-eyed, and feeling boneless, so it was one she was willing to make. He was on her in an instant, kissing her passionately. His tongue probed her mouth, and she moaned into his as she met it eagerly. She giggled as he pushed her onto the bed and wrapped her arms around him, running her hands down his bare back.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Daemon said as he broke the kiss. “Was that all to say that you want to...be there when Myrcella and I…”

“All the blood in your brain went down here, didn’t it?” Daenerys asked teasingly while she cupped his cock, making him groan. “I did say she was beautiful, did I not? If you’re going to make our children, why shouldn’t I be in the room, even the bed for it?”

“Gods, I don’t deserve you,” Daemon groaned.

“I think you’re about to prove to me exactly why you deserve me,” Daenerys purred. Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, “Unless you want me to have her brought here right now.”

Daemon snarled and kissed her again, just as roughly as the first time.

*****

“What the fuck was I thinking?” Myrcella hissed as she panted back and forth. “I started this day as a queen and ended it by offering to be...what...a royal breeder?”

She shook her head and tried to ignore the heat she felt in her core at the thought. Spending time as she did in Dorne exposed to a great deal of depravity that she wouldn’t have seen in King’s Landing, and while she herself never partook, that didn’t mean that she didn’t see, and especially hear, it. She had thought that Trystane was handsome, and, while she felt guilty at the time for even thinking such things, she had looked forward to exploring some of the things he’d been exposed to with him. That betrothal had ended long ago, however, as had her ability to feel guilty about her thoughts. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel embarrassed about her actions.

“Maybe I should join the silent sisters,” she grumbled to herself. “At least then I won’t be able to say something that ludicrous again.”

“My Lady,” one of the unsullied said outside her door. “The king and queen wish to see you.”

Myrcella sighed and opened the door, gesturing for him to lead her to them. The familiar halls of the castle she’d grown up in seemed strange to her now, filled as they were with these unfamiliar guards. As she continued on, she began to hear sounds that were at once familiar and odd, given how long it had been since she heard them. She flushed as she realized what she was hearing and turned crimson as she got close enough to make out words and realized who she was hearing.

“Yes, yes, yes, gods!” Daenerys shrieked in pleasure.

“Are you sure that they asked for me?” Myrcella asked.

“The queen asks, and we obey,” the eunuch replied.

She felt her heart begin to race in her chest as she realized just why she would be called in for something like this. She had thought that Daemon might be willing to have her and Daenerys willing to allow him for the children she needed, but she never would have imagined the both of them taking her together. Her mind raced back to some of the things she’d stumbled past in the Water Gardens in Dorne, and she felt her cunt clench around nothing as it grew rapidly wet.

The door was opened just enough to let her slip in, and as she did, she took in a sight far more wild and untamed than anything she had seen in Dorne. Daenerys was lying on her belly, facing the door, and clawing at the sheets as Daemon fucked her hard and fast into the bed. He had looked huge in his armor, and somehow he managed to look even larger out of it as he dominated his wife. She was so small, and he was so much larger that she wondered how they even fit together. They clearly did, though, if the look of pleasure on her red face and her wordless cries were any indication.

“Oh, Myrcella,” Daemon said as he spotted her, sounding like he’d forgotten that they had called for her.

“Hmm?” Daenerys asked, opening her eyes and looking blearily at her. “Oh, right.”

Myrcella went to say that she could come back later, but all she managed to get out was, “I…”

“My apologies, but we started without you,” Daemon said, pulling his cock out of Daenerys and making Myrcella’s already wide eyes grow even wider at the sight.

“How the fuck did that fit inside her?” she thought to herself, still beyond words.

“We...got...carried away,” Daenerys panted.

Daemon got up and walked over to the pitcher lying on a table by the window. Pouring a goblet full, he took a sip and brought it to Daenerys, who accepted it with a smile as she sat up. She drank deeply and peered over at a still-frozen Myrcella with amusement in her eyes.

“Wine?” Daenerys asked, holding the goblet out towards her.

Myrcella’s mind flashed back to the last time a queen had offered her wine from bed, and she almost laughed at how different this scenario was from that as she walked towards her. Daenerys Targaryen was hauntingly beautiful normally, but as she was there, utterly naked and with her skin flushed and almost glowing, she was a goddess.

Myrcella took a sip from the goblet and said, “I…”

“I think we broke her, my love,” Daemon said, coming up behind her and taking the goblet from her hand.

Myrcella looked up at him, and whimpered as she realized just how much he towered over her. She backed up slightly and froze as she felt his massive cock press into her, with only her dress and smallclothes separating it from her ass.

“I don’t think so,” Daenerys said, getting up and nearly falling forward on her unsteady legs before righting herself. Looking Myrcella right in the eye, she smirked and said, “Broken is what she’s going to be after she experiences the pleasure you can give her.”

Myrcella felt her arousal run down her thighs, having already soaked through her ruined small clothes, and shuddered. She might not have been a Baratheon, but in that moment, she truly did feel like a little doe caught in the grip of two hungry predators.

“We’ve thought about your offer earlier, and I think it will work for us,” Daenerys said, speaking as casually as one might about the weather, “but there is one amendment I’m going to have to insist on.”

“Oh?” Myrcella asked, her voice squeaking.

“You won’t be locked away in some tower on Dragonstone,” Daenerys said, cupping her cheek. Myrcella shivered and leaned into the touch as she continued, saying, “You’ll be my handmaiden by day, and by night, our...what shall we call her, my love?”

“Breeder,” Myrcella panted before she could stop herself, making Daemon groan.

Daenerys smiled widely and said, “Breeder it is.”

Without another word, she pulled Myrcella down and kissed her deeply. The blonde groaned into the shorter woman’s mouth and returned the kiss hungrily. She hadn’t experienced anything like this since her practice kisses with Rosamund, and she was too turned on to care the slightest bit about how eager she looked.

“Oh gods,” Daemon groaned, and she felt his cock throb against her ass through her clothes.

The next second, she felt her dress being torn open and broke the kiss to cry out as he started peppering her neck with kisses. It was too much already, and they hadn’t even begun.

“Gods, your breasts are gorgeous,” Daenerys cooed as her dress fell from her. She cupped the large mounds and brought one of her pebbled nipples to her mouth.

Myrcella moaned loudly and threw her head back in pleasure as her fingers sank into Daenerys’ silver-gold hair. Daemon stepped around her, his eyes darkening as he saw her wife suck on another woman’s breasts, and pulled Myrcella in to kiss her. Daenerys’ kiss had been passionate but gentle and teasing, while Daemon’s was rough and demanding. He dominated her mouth as thoroughly as he had been dominating Daenerys when she walked in, and Myrcella had no idea how she was going to survive both of them.

Daenerys switched to her other nipple while she kneaded both of her breasts, and after a couple minutes of this, all while Daemon continued to drive her wild, she started kissing her way down along her soft belly.

“Seven hells!” Myrcella panted as Daemon finally broke the kiss for air, only to gawk at Daenerys, who was removing her smallclothes just then.

“Such wide hips,” Daemon said, running his hands over them as he did.

“Wide hips, large breasts, and a nice slick cunt,” Daenerys grinned as she knelt and ran her fingers gently through the forest of golden hair between Myrcella’s thighs. “It’s like she was made to be our breeder.”

“Gah, fuck!” Myrcella cried, her legs beginning to shake. Her whole body was actually shaking, she realized.

“You’re trembling,” Daemon said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Are you alright?”

“It’s too much!” Myrcella panted. “I feel like I’m going to burst.”

“Probably just about,” Daemon said. He furrowed his brow then and asked, “Wait, have you never cum?”

“What?” Myrcella asked in confusion.

“Oh fuck,” Daenerys laughed. “Lie down on the bed, dear. Come.”

She climbed onto the bed and held her arms out for Myrcella to join her, which she quickly did. Lying on her back, with her head resting between Daenerys’ perky, supple breasts, her eyes widened as she saw Daemon approach her, his heavy cock bobbing as he moved.

“Is it...I mean, please be careful,” Myrcella said.

“Oh, he’ll be cautious,” Daenerys whispered in her ear, brushing her long blonde hair aside, “and as gentle as you need, but he’s not going to fuck you just yet.”

“He’s not?” Myrcella asked, confused.

“No,” Daemon said as he spread her legs.

He kissed her inner thigh, and she swore she felt the kiss radiate up inside her. The pressure in her core was almost unbearable, and that feeling that something immense was building inside her returned even stronger. Daenerys languidly kneaded one of her breasts and kissed her softly. Myrcella returned the kiss, happy to have something to distract her from the feelings welling up inside her. She felt like her body needed something from her desperately, but she had no idea what. Each kiss that Daemon planted on her thighs felt like pleasurable fire on her skin, and when she noticed that his face was right by her cunt, she stopped kissing Daenerys and turned to him.

“What are you doing?” Myrcella asked.

“Getting you ready for me,” Daemon said, parting her golden curls to get a good look at her weeping sex.

“I...okay, but your face is right there, and well, isn’t it dirty?” Myrcella asked.

“It doesn’t smell dirty,” Daemon said, his voice low and rumbling, and she swore she felt her cunt flutter at his words.

“I mean, I bathe regularly, butAHH!” Myrcella shrieked as she felt him use the flat of his tongue to lick her entire cunt.

She made sounds that she didn’t even know she was capable of over the next few moments as Daemon continued to lick and kiss her dripping wet folds. It felt so good, it felt too good, and as she grabbed his head and sank her fingers into her brown locks, she didn’t know if she wanted to get him to stop or make sure that he never stopped. When his tongue flicked over something near the top of her cunt, she was sure that her scream could be heard all the way to the ruins of the dragon pit.

“Enjoying yourself?” Daenerys asked, looking deeply amused.

“What...what…” Myrcella gasped, feeling like she was losing her mind. “What’s happening?”

“Something wonderful,” Daenerys said softly. “Gods, if I knew it would be this fun sharing a woman, we’d have done it ages ago.”

Before Myrcella could say anything about that, she felt Daemon wrap his lips around the sensitive spot that had made her scream before. He sucked gently on it, and her whole world went white. A keening wail spilled from her lips and echoed through the room and beyond as sensations she couldn’t have fathomed before this moment overwhelmed her. She convulsed and writhed on the bed, secure in the arms of both Daenerys and Daemon. The pleasure went on and on in waves, each one crashing into the next, and just as she began to wonder if it would ever end, it did. Myrcella collapsed on the bed, weeping at the intensity of what she’d just felt.

“There, now,” Daenerys said soothingly, wrapping an arm around her and holding her.

Daemon quickly joined them on the bed, and Myrcella rolled over until her head was resting on his chest, and his arms were around her. Held by both of them, she felt safer than she had since Robert died and just let herself enjoy the security and warmth she felt for a few moments.

She knew that neither of her parents would be happy about what he was doing right now. The man she’d called father would be furious to see her in the arms of two Targaryens. As she lay in their arms, though, she found that she truly did not care. She had lost family to Robb Stark’s army; she had lost family to Stannis’ army, and most of her family she’d lost to other Lannisters. These two had taken nothing from her but a throne she neither liked nor wanted, and they promised to give her so much more than they had taken.

“I was beginning to think you’d fallen asleep,” Daemon chuckled as she opened her eyes.

“What was that?” Myrcella breathed, blinking as her vision cleared.

“An orgasm, darling,” Daenerys replied from behind her, moving down to kiss her hip. “The first of many you’ll experience with us, and not even the most intense.”

“They get better?” Myrcella asked, her eyes widening. She couldn’t even imagine something more intense than that.

“Of course,” Daemon replied, grinning devilishly down at her. “You didn’t even squirt that time. Dany here has outright flooded our beds before.”

“Daemon,” Daenerys whined, sounding oddly bashful as her husband laughed at her.

“Fuck me,” Myrcella sighed. “Put a babe, in me, my king.”

Daemon’s eyes darkened even further, and the next thing she knew, she was rolled onto her back, and he was between her legs, his heavy cock lying on her. He reached her naval, and she had no idea how in the seven hells he was going to fit inside her, but she knew that he fit inside Daenerys, who was even smaller than her, so she figured that she’d just stretch. He grabbed his cock and rubbed his thick head over her cunt, making her moan as Daenerys joined them. The Valyrian beauty smiled down at her, and Myrcella was so entranced by her adoring look that she didn’t notice Daemon start to push inside her until she felt a sharp pain.

“Ah!” she cried out, her core clenching tightly.

“Holy fuck,” Daemon groaned.

“There now,” Daenerys said softly as she kissed Myrcella.

Myrcella had seen the aftermath of beddings before, and from the amount of blood on the sheets, she had expected it to hurt a lot, but though there was a sharp pain when he first pushed through her maidenhead and it still hurt, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she had thought it would be.

“Gods, you’re fucking tight,” Daemon groaned as he held where he was.

“Part of that would be because she’s squeezing involuntarily due to the pain,” Daenerys said. “How does it feel?”

“It hurts, but it’s not that bad,” Myrcella whimpered.

“You’re very wet,” Daenerys said, “and that will help a lot. You don’t want to be dry your first time; trust me there.”

“Or ever,” Daemon said.

“I don’t know, my love; I think it would be distracting to be wet all the time,” Daenerys smirked, and she squealed and laughed as he smacked her ass.

Myrcella watched the display in amazement, almost unable to understand how a married couple could be so at ease and happy with each other. The only marriage she’d seen much of growing up was her parents’, and given that she was her uncle’s daughter, it didn’t go well. When she felt Daenerys’ fingers start rubbing circles around that spot that had made her cum before, all thoughts of her childhood disappeared.

“This is your clit, Cella,” Daenerys said. “Though there are more sensitive spots inside you that feel even better, this is the easiest one to find and touch. You seriously never touched it before?”

“My septa said that doing such things was sinful,” Myrcella said, “and warned me against it.”

“I told you they were cunts,” Daemon said.

“Of course, what I’m doing now is even more sinful, so to the hells with it,” Myrcella said, placing her hand over Daenerys’.

Daenerys grinned and removed her hand. Taking Myrcella’s hand, she sucked on a couple of her fingers until they were quite wet and brought her hand back to her cunt. Placing her hand over the younger girl’s, she moved it for her.

“Just like this,” she said, “rub it in small, tight circles, applying just as much pressure as you can take. How does that feel?”

“Good,” Myrcella sighed, cupping one of her breasts and kneading it as she continued to pleasure herself.

“You’ve relaxed a bit,” Daemon said. “Are you ready for me to move?”

“Yes,” Myrcella said, barely paying attention to him. That changed when he pushed another couple inches of his cock inside her, making her grunt. “Gods be good; you’re so big!”

“My Daemon’s a very special man,” Daenerys purred, smiling at her husband.

The initial pain of the penetration had faded, and while being stretched so much still burned quite a bit, it was also starting to feel really good, especially with her rubbing her clit. Daenerys had long since stopped helping her and had gone back to kneading her breasts.

“Can...can I try sucking on your nipples?” Myrcella asked.

“I won’t object,” Daenerys laughed, wrapping her arms around Myrcella’s head and bringing her in towards her chest.

Daenerys’ breasts were smaller than her own, but no less lovely, with nipples a very similar shade of pink. She had tanlines, which suggested that she had worn dresses that Myrcella herself wouldn’t have dared, but she supposed that if her queen ordered her to, she might wear such things. She shivered at the thought as she wrapped her lips around it.

“Ah, gentle!” Daenerys cried, and Myrcella eased up a bit and flicked her tongue over the nub soothingly.

Daemon had been slowly easing himself inside her a bit at a time up to that point, but sped up a little as he saw her kneading and sucking on his wife’s breasts. She moaned loudly against the other woman’s flawless skin, but didn’t ask him to slow down. The pleasure of having him inside her, stretching her inner walls to their limit, had long since overtaken any remaining discomfort that she felt. She wrapped her legs around him on instinct, and with her heels against his amazingly firm ass, she pulled him inside her to the hilt.

“Oh gods!” she cried as she felt the last of him conquer her depths.

He felt so deep, pressed up against what had to be the very back of her cunt, and she knew that he had stretched her to her limits. Her thighs were shaking, and her body was covered in a sheen of sweat from the effort it took to just take him inside her.

“He feels so good, doesn’t he?” Daenerys asked, moving down until their faces were just a couple inches apart. “The first time I took him inside me, I thought he must have moved half of my insides out of the way to make space.”

“Like rearranging furniture,” Myrcella gasped, giggling as she pictured her guts leaping out of the way of his cock like a charging bull.

“Fucking hells, you feel amazing,” Daemon said. “Let me know when you’re comfortable enough for me to move.”

“Move!” Myrcella cried. “Fuck me!”

Daemon pulled several inches of his cock from her clinging depths and thrust back in hard, making her grunt. He started moving at that slow yet hard pace, finding a rhythm quickly enough while she felt like she was losing her mind already. It felt so good and so much more intense than she could have ever imagined. Before long, she was moaning and crying out with every thrust.

“So fucking good!” Myrcella almost screamed as he brushed against something inside her that felt marvelous.

“So, how is she, Daemon?” Daenerys asked.

“Slick and tight, and just as hot as you,” Daemon replied. “Maybe she is a Targaryen.”

“Then it’s for the...agh...the best that I waited for a Targaryen cock to claim me!” Myrcella cried, and the both of them looked down at her in shock.

“Claimed you, have I?” Daemon asked, grinning widely.

“Yes!” Myrcella screamed, her fingers rubbing her throbbing clit as hard and fast as she could as she soared towards another peak. “I’m yours!”

“Ours,” Daenerys argued, pulling her hand away from her sex.

Myrcella whimpered at the loss and whined, “Yes, yours too!”

“Mmm, such a beautiful breeder we have,” Daenerys cooed, kissing her belly softly. “You’ve been so good to us; you deserve a reward.”

As Daemon continued to fuck her, Daenerys kissed her way towards her forest of golden curls, making both of their eyes widen in shock. Spreading the hair away from the other girl’s clit, Daenerys breathed on it, making Myrcella’s breath hitch, and then began flicking her tongue over the throbbing nub.

“Fuck!” Myrcella screamed, her whole body going taut as she felt her orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck me,” Daemon muttered, watching the two of them in awe as he continued to fuck his new lover.

Between his cock and her tongue, Myrcella found herself overwhelmed almost immediately, and it took barely any time for her to squeal in orgasm.

“GODS!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs, as pleasure beyond even what she had experienced the first time coursed through her body.

Daemon fucked her throughout her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure as he did, but Daenerys backed away and watched the two of them as Myrcella continued to writhe in ecstasy. As wave after wave of pleasure thundered through her from head to toe, Myrcella screamed and outright howled. Lights flashed before her eyes, and they rolled back into her head as she was utterly consumed by bliss.

“Cella?” Daenerys’ melodic voice called to her. “Cella?”

“Think we should get the maester?” Daemon asked.

“Marwyn is still on Dragonstone, love,” Daenerys said.

“Wha??” Myrcella asked, her eyes fluttering open.

“Ahh, there you are,” Daemon said, kissing her tenderly.

“Wha...what happened?” Myrcella asked.

“You passed out,” Daenerys replied, gently stroking her hair.

Myrcella leaned into the other woman’s touch and nearly purred at how good it felt.

“How do people not do this all the time?” she asked softly, making Daemon and Daenerys both laugh.

“Most have other things to do,” Daemon chuckled.

“And we all have our limits,” Daenerys said. “You’re going to be quite sore in the morning.”

“Who cares when it feels that bloody good?” Myrcella moaned, and on seeing that Daemon had pulled his cock from her cunt and that the glistening shaft was still hard, her eyes widened. “Did you not yet finish?”

“It seemed rude to do so while you were asleep,” Daemon replied, shrugging.

“I’ll never end up with child if you don’t spill in me,” Myrcella said. “I might be a novice, but I know that much.”

“Well, you are now awake,” Daemon rumbled, and Myrcella felt her cunt flutter at his words.

“I feel so dreadfully empty now that I know what it’s like to be full,” Myrcella said.

“I know that feeling,” Daenerys chuckled.

“Um, Daenerys, that thing that you and Daemon both did to me, can I do it to you?” Myrcella asked, blushing as she asked the question.

“Are you asking to feast on my cunt, Cella?” Daenerys asked teasingly.

“Yes,” Myrcella breathed.

“Hmm, well, I’d be happy to let you,” Daenerys said, her purple eyes darkening even further with lust. “Daemon is a Targaryen, but he’s also a Stark, a wolf, and you know how wolves mate, yes?”

“Ye...yes,” Myrcella stammered, sitting up. Looking at the towering form of the man who’d twice robbed her of her wits that night, she asked, “Do you want to take me like that? Like you were taking Daenerys earlier.”

“I think that might be a little advanced for you,” Daemon smirked, tracing a finger down her arm and making her shiver. “With you lying on your belly, prone against the bed, and me pounding every inch of my cock deep inside you, it’ll be far more intense than what you just experienced.”

Myrcella felt her cunt drool at the images he put in her head.

“I can take you on your hands and knees while you thank my beloved wife for letting you have me, though,” Daemon smirked.

Myrcella didn’t say anything and instead just scrambled to get into position, with her arse sticking out at him and her face towards Daenerys. She had lived the life of a pampered princess and had never wanted for anything in her life until Robert died. As she waited for her lovers to take her cunt and mouth and use her for their pleasure, her whole body shook with a palpable need, the likes of which she’d never known.

“Gods, what an arse!” Daemon exclaimed, slapping one of her plump cheeks hard enough to make it jiggle.

Myrcella shrieked at the sudden blow and would have complained if it didn’t make her cunt clench pleasurably. Daenerys laid down on her back in front of her, spreading her legs and displaying her dripping slit. She had shorn most of the hair away, leaving only a carefully groomed triangle just above her clit. Myrcella didn’t know if Daemon would want her to do the same, but if that was what it took to know the pleasure of having his cock inside her again, she’d happily pluck her every golden hair out one by one.

“Watching you two has been hotter than I ever imagined it might be,” Daenerys said, “and my cunt is already dripping wet and hot as fire, so it won’t take much to finish me off. Just give it a few probing licks, and I’ll instruct you from there.”

Myrcella leaned forward and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of Daenerys’ sex before giving her fleshy pink folds a long, slow lick. The Valyrian beauty gasped and grabbed her head, which she took as a good sign and began slowly exploring her soaking wet nether lips with her tongue. She realized that they looked somewhat like lips after a moment and began to kiss and suck on them as well.

“That’s it,” Daemon said, hovering over her. “Tease her a bit before you go for her clit. She’s close already, but the longer you draw things out, the better it will be when she finally cums.”

“Oh gods!” Myrcella cried out as he speared himself back inside her in one long thrust.

Daenerys pulled her head back down and ground her dripping slit on her mouth as Daemon started fucking her as hard as he had before. Trapped between her king and queen and being used by the both of them for their pleasure, Myrcella’s eyes nearly crossed at how fucking good it all felt.

“Gods, you’re a natural,” Daenerys sighed, her thighs closing around Myrcella’s head.

Myrcella would have preened at the praise if she wasn’t struggling to think straight just then. Daemon felt like he was somehow managing to reach even deeper in this position, and his every powerful thrust made her see stars. Not knowing how much longer she was going to be able to do anything other than get fucked like the mindless whore he was turning her into, she decided to focus on Daenerys’ clit, giving the little pink nub a probing lick.

“Fuck!” Daenerys cried, her thighs quivering on either side of Myrcella’s head. “Right there!”

Myrcella wrapped her lips around the other woman’s clit and started flicking her tongue rapidly over it, desperate to make Daenerys cum while she still could. The Valyrian beauty writhed and quivered on the bed, her face contorting in pleasure as sweet moans spilled from her pillowy lips.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t fucking STOP!” Daenerys shrieked. “GODS!”

Myrcella’s face was smeared in Daenerys’ fluids, and she moved down to lap up the tangy nectar. Daemon paused for a moment, to her displeasure, but she couldn’t really blame him for taking a moment to watch his wife cum. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the other woman’s beautiful, reddening face as pleasure coursed through her.

“Fuck,” Daenerys panted as she collapsed on the bed. “Breed her...my love.”

“Gladly,” Daemon rumbled, pushing Myrcella down until she was lying prone on the bed.

She looked behind her in surprise, and she quivered at the look of raw desire on his handsome face. The next thing she knew, she was being fucked into the bed, his massive cock reaching impossibly deep inside her with his every brutal thrust.

“YES!” Myrcella shrieked, clawing at the bed before her as he did his best to drive her mad. “More, more!”

This was more intense than anything he’d done to her yet, and she swore that if they just did this often, she’d never regret her decision to surrender the throne to them for as long as she lived. Words began to fail her as he fucked her like a whore, and she was soon reduced to simple screams of pleasure. Just when she thought that nothing could ever feel better than this, Daemon changed his angle slightly, and it felt like the head of his cock slipped inside something inside her.

“GAAAHHH!” Myrcella squealed as her myriad colors flashed before her eyes, robbing her of sight.

If she thought she had experienced pleasure up to this point, Daemon again proved that she knew nothing of it as she came harder than she had yet. Every muscle in her body went taut as it hit, and she was quickly reduced to a spasming, shrieking, mindless wreck. A torrent of fluid spilled from her quivering cunt, soaking the bed under her as wave after wave of soul-searing ecstasy radiated from her overheated core to every part of her body.

“Oh gods!” she barely heard Daemon grunt, and then a sudden warmth filled her as he spilled what felt like a barrel of seed inside her.

A sense of completion and purpose filled her, and consciousness left her.

*****

“Yes, yes, fucking gods, I love your cock!” Daenerys cried.

Myrcella’s eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head to the side to see Daenerys riding Daemon like a horse. She felt almost numb; she was so relaxed, and though her cunt ached, she couldn’t recall ever being more content.

“I need to learn how to do that,” she murmured to herself.

“I’ll...teach you...fuck!” Daenerys cried as she came, falling forward into his arms as she began to shake and convulse in pleasure.

Myrcella just smiled at the display and settled back onto her back, sinking into the comfortable bed as she twirled a lock of her blonde hair around her finger. Being queen had made her miserable, but this new role seemed like it was going to be much better.