To Crown a Princess (Patreon)

“I’m telling you, I already know how the joust is going to end,” Margaery said confidently to the various ladies gathered around her. “There are talented knights throughout the realm, but Loras is phenomenal on a horse.”

The beautiful brunette continued gushing about what an embodiment of the Warrior her brother was, and Rhaenys just smiled politely, though she had to suppress the urge to gag.  If someone were to ask her what she thought of the Tyrell girl, the princess would say that she quite liked her and, depending on the day, she might even mean it.  The younger girl could be utterly insufferable at times, however, and as the day drew closer to the public announcement of her engagement to Aegon, the Prince of Dragonstone, she became particularly irritating.

“It will be so wonderful to be able to speak openly about your betrothal,” Desmera Redwyne, Margaery’s cousin and one of her ladies-in-waiting, sighed. “It’s been torture having to keep such happy news a secret.”

“It won’t be a secret for much longer,” Margaery said, pride clear in her voice as she sipped her Arbor Gold wine. “As much as I would have liked it to be made public sooner, having the announcement come at the end of the tourney for my nameday will make it even more special, particularly when Loras crowns me the Queen of Love and Beauty first.”

“I know jousting isn’t his strong suit, but I still think it would be better if your betrothed could do it,” Megga Tyrell said, and Rhaenys just stared at the girl.  With a cup of wine in her, Margaery’s most irritating cousin’s mouth could be as fat as her waist.

“My Aegon might not be a terribly martial man, but he’s going to be a wonderful king,” Margaery said, giving Megga a pointed look. “He’ll be far better off when Loras becomes a part of the Kingsguard and is able to openly protect him.”

“I wasn’t aware there was an opening,” Rhaenys said softly, sipping her lemon water.

“There isn’t yet,” Margaery admitted, “but cousin Gerold would be the first to admit that he’s a little long in the tooth these days.  He’s recommended Loras as his replacement, and this tourney will be an excellent opportunity for my brother to demonstrate his skills at arms.”

“As you say,” Rhaenys said. “You’re very confident, Margaery.  I assume that Loras will be wearing your colors.”

“Of course,” Margaery replied. “They’re his as well, of course.”

“Who will be wearing yours, Rha...Princess?” Megga asked, catching herself a second later than she should have.

“I haven’t decided,” Rhaenys said coolly.

In truth, she couldn’t care less about having a champion win the day in her honor or any such rubbish.  Growing up close to her Dornish cousins, particularly the Sand Snakes, gave her a very different view of tourneys than most noble women.  She would probably give her colors to Obara if her eldest cousin entered the tourney at all.

“Will Prince Daemon be entering?” Desmera asked. “It could be fun to see him and Loras compete against each other, at least if the tales of his exploits in the North are to be believed.”

“Even if he does, he won’t beat Loras,” Margaery said smugly. “I doubt there’s a knight in the land who could at this point.”

Rhaenys could think of two members of the Kingsguard who likely could, but Desmera had given her an even better idea.  The nobility had treated her valonqar like a pariah for most of his life, the circumstances of his birth giving him the perceived taint of bastardy even though he was trueborn.  His long fostering in the North hadn’t helped matters, and most of the realm had been surprised when her father had brought him back to the capital and started training him to become Aegon's Hand one day.  If he managed to beat Loras, it might actually take Margaery down a peg.

“Pardon me, ladies,” she said, stressing their stations just a touch. “I just remembered that Mother wanted to see me around now.”

“Of course,” Margaery said, rising to clasp Rhaenys’ hands in her own. “I do, so look forward to us being sisters.”

“I’ve always wanted one,” Rhaenys said, her smile as false as her tone.

*****

Daemon stretched his neck from side to side, sighing at a particularly pleasant crack, and set the documents he had been going over down.  When he first started proposing ideas about how to strengthen the North to his uncle, he had never imagined that it would lead him to where he was.  He had been a good pupil of Maester Luwin’s, and when the man started sharing some of Winterfell’s less sensitive figures with him, to test his mind, Daemon had thought of a few ways to grow the ancient keep’s revenues and suggested them to his uncle Ned.

To his surprise, the older man took the suggestions, and they paid off, leading to him being given more material to analyze and make use of.  It turned out that he had quite a knack for growing coffers, and as he became his uncle’s unofficial Master of Coin and Hand, the revenues generated by the geographically largest of the Seven Kingdoms swelled.

These improvements generated interest from the Ironborn, and when they tried to invade the North, thinking that the realm was still weak after the Baratheon Uprising, Daemon participated in the defense of the land and actually led the charge that routed the pirate fucks for good.  That failed invasion gave the North more wealth than they could have imagined, as the Ironborn left behind a Valyrian Steel sword called Red Rain.  It turned out that it had actually belonged to House Reyne back before it was stolen, and Tywin Lannister paid them an absolute fortune for the blade, which his uncle invested wisely.

With its own fleet for the first time in centuries, the North was fast developing trade ties with multiple Free Cities and was looking more prosperous than ever.  Daemon had been returning from handling the first trade agreement with the Braavosi when he learned that his father was most impressed with what he had accomplished and wanted to bring him south to study under Jon Connington in the hopes that he could one day be Aegon's Hand.  The man was abrasive and frustrating on his best day, but Daemon was confident that he would be able to succeed him down the line.  He had been pouring over the royal revenues and expenses for hours and needed a break.  As if by fate, a knock came to his door at that moment.

“Rhaenys?” he asked as he opened it to reveal who his well-timed distraction was.

“Valonqar,” Rhaenys replied. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Daemon said, stepping back.

“Wait here, Ser Jamie,” Rhaenys said as she wandered in.

“Of course, Princess,” Jamie replied dutifully.

Daemon watched her walk in and felt his breeches tighten at the sight of her.  She was wearing a thin purple dress in the Dornish style, as most of her clothes were, and it managed to simultaneously cover her entire body, save for her bare arms and a generous amount of her full bosom, while leaving nothing of her figure to the imagination.  His eyes wandered to her arse as he watched her walk, her wide hips swaying with each step, and he suppressed a shudder.

Rhaenys was an incredibly beautiful woman, and as she turned the chair he had just been seated in around and sat down, he was taken aback by just how gorgeous she was.  Her light olive skin, a little lighter than her mother’s, was flawless, and her heart-shaped face, with her full lips and straight nose, was lovely.  Most beautiful of all were her eyes, a dark purple that her dress was clearly meant to complement.

“Are these documents as riveting as they look?” she asked dryly, signaling to the scrolls on his desk.

“Duller than you can imagine,” Daemon replied. “At least our coffers are full.”

“Father’s always managed to toe the line between spending like a drunken fool in a brothel and being called a spendthrift,” Rhaenys commented.

“I doubt you came here to discuss the royal finances,” Daemon said.

“Mostly, I came here to get away from Margaery for a while,” Rhaenys said.

“Still bragging about how Loras is the greatest knight who ever lived?” Daemon asked.

“I understand that she’s excited about the betrothal, but fuck, she’s been irritating lately,” Rhaenys groaned. “She’s always been annoyingly perfect.”

“Careful, Rhaenys,” Daemon said teasingly, “green isn’t your color.”

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not envious of her; in fact, I think she’ll be a perfectly useful queen for Egg.  She’s effortlessly charming, beloved by the smallfolk and nobility alike, and the two seem to get on quite well.”

“If not envy, then what’s your problem with her?” Daemon asked.

“It’s fake,” Rhaenys said simply. “She comes across as the loveliest woman who ever lived, kind and generous, sweet and demure, with rarely an unkind word for anyone.”

“And you think it’s an act?” Daemon asked.

“Of course it is,” Rhaenys snorted. “She’s her grandmother’s creature through and through, and the Queen of Thorns is no fool.  Margaery has been molded by the old woman into the picture-perfect queen, and it has worked.  She charmed Aegon from the start, and he’s so smitten with her now; she’s all-but assured a place at his side, but she is acting.  No one that clever, and she is clever, is that high-spirited all the time.”

“You generally are,” Daemon said. “Come to think of it, you two actually have a lot in common.

“Of course we do,” Rhaenys said. “We were both raised by women who taught us that a woman’s greatest asset isn’t her body, but her smile.  Mother taught me from a young age that by being sweet and affable, I could gain the love and affection of the people around me far more easily than by being petulant and loud.  I learned the lesson well, and everybody loves me and will continue to so long as I keep it up.”

“Why are you so open about this with me?” Daemon asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Rhaenys replied. “Egg has always been the one person that I could relax and be myself around, and when you returned to us, I guess I was just used to treating a valonqar that way.”

Daemon smiled at her.

“I guess my problem with Margaery is that she’s too good at it,” Rhaenys said. “I’ve never seen her mask slip once, not even for a moment.  She is, as I say, annoyingly perfect, and so while I get along with her usually, when she’s particularly smug, it just gets under my skin, and she’s been infuriating lately.”

“Well, I wish I could help, but…” Daemon went to say.

“Oh, I think you can,” Rhaenys said, cutting him off. “I’ve seen you ride; you’re quite the jouster.”

“No,” Daemon said flatly.

“Come now,” Rhaenys said. “Margaery and her ladies are so sure that her brother would beat you handily.  Don’t you want to prove them wrong?”

“I have actual accomplishments to take pride in,” Daemon said.  Pointing to a fading scar over his right cheek that split his eyebrow in half, he added, “earning this gained me more glory than a hundred tourneys could.  The Battle of the Wolfswood, breaking the siege at Barrowtown, the charge down the Rills where I slew Victarion Greyjoy, these were victories worth boasting of.”

“Yes, you’re a seasoned warrior, something that cannot be said of Loras,” Rhaenys said, standing up. “Sure, the tourney will waste a little of your time, but the ten thousand gold dragons you’d earn isn’t a small thing, and it would make me very happy.”

“That does sound tempting,” Daemon said, tapping his chin as if he were actually considering it, “but no.”

“Damn it, Daemon,” Rhaenys huffed, pacing about the room.  Daemon sat down and enjoyed the sight of her arse moving as she walked.

“Get some other knight to do your dirty work,” Daemon said. “Ser Jaime out there would surely be interested.  You’ve had the man eating out of the palm of your hand since you came up to his knee.”

“Ser Jaime’s not the one I want to wear my colors, knock Loras from his horse and crown me the Queen of Love and Beauty in front of little Lady Perfection,” Rhaenys pouted. “What’s so important that you couldn’t do this?”

“I just got a report from a contact of mine in Braavos on the construction of the sewer system in that city,” Daemon replied. “I’m hoping that, using it, we’ll be able to build a new system here that could more efficiently deal with our persistent waste issue.”

“You’d rather play around with shit than win a tourney for me?” Rhaenys hissed.

“Sorry, love, but I didn’t grow up here, and the smell still makes my eyes water some mornings,” Daemon complained. “Having our capital city smell like this is embarrassing, so yes, if I can do something about it, that will be worthwhile.”

Getting up, Daemon turned his chair around and sat back at his desk. “Thank you for the distraction, my sweet, but I really must get through all of this so I can get started on the Braavosi report.”

“There’s really nothing I could offer you to change your mind?” Rhaenys asked and Daemon swore he could hear her pout.

“Not that I can imagine,” Daemon said.

“Then clearly your imagination needs work,” Rhaenys commented, her voice low and husky.

Daemon heard a banging sound, as if someone had kicked the door and turned around only to freeze halfway.  Rhaenys was leaning back against the door, her arms over her head, and her dress pooled at her feet, revealing that she wasn’t wearing smallclothes.  Daemon had seen a lot of naked women in his life, from the servant girls of Winterfell, to the whores of Wintertown, White Harbor and King’s Landing, to the Courtesans of Braavos, and of them, perhaps one had ever come close to the vision of perfection standing before him.

Her purple eyes shone in triumph as he looked her up and down, and it was testament to how beautiful her face was that he even noticed, because her body was perfection.  She was of average height for a woman, with large, full breasts capped by light brown nipples that begged to be sucked on and wonderfully wide hips.  Her legs were long and lovely, and between her thick thighs, her womanhood lay hidden behind a carefully kept forest of black curls that he longed to part.

Daemon was wise enough to school himself before he tried to speak.  When he finally did, he said, “you really want to see Margaery and Loras beaten.”

“I do,” Rhaenys said, stepping out of the silk circle of her dress on the floor.  Clad only in shoes and rings, she was the most alluring thing he had ever seen. “I’ve also seen how you look at me.”

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be so bold,” Daemon commented, still letting his eyes feast on her.

“I’ll show you bold,” Rhaenys said, leaning over him to whisper in his ear. “If you crown me the Queen of Love and Beauty at her tourney, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me for a night.”

Daemon inhaled her gorgeous scent and placed a hand on her bare hip.  She pulled back, smirking at the look of desire he knew was clear in his eyes, and peeled his hand off of her.

“Not until you crown me,” Rhaenys said, placing his hand on his thigh as she stepped back.

“A moon,” Daemon said.

“What?” Rhaenys asked.

Daemon stood up, his tall, broad form towering over her as he took a step forward.  Tracing a hand up her side, he said, “there aren’t enough hours in one day, much less a mere night, for everything I want to do to you.”

By the time he finished speaking, he had reached her breast and cupped the heavy mound gently, smirking at how her eyes darkened with desire.

“Greedy boy,” Rhaenys whispered, gasping as he tweaked her nipple. “Ah...a whole moon is quite a lot for one tourney.”

She very pointedly didn’t remove his hand that time and Daemon smirked down at her. “A sennight then.”

“A week,” Rhaenys gasped as Daemon turned her around and pressed his hard length against her arse through his breeches.

“Anything?” Daemon asked, sliding his hands up to cup both of her incredible tits.

“Anything you can imagine,” Rhaenys gasped.

“You’ll find my imagination works just fine,” Daemon promised, leaning in to kiss her neck.  The breathy little moan she let out shot straight to his cock, and he was tempted to free it and see what she’d do.  As he nuzzled her neck, he noticed her bring two fingers to her cunt and groaned.

Rhaenys wiggled out of his grasp and turned around.  Her face was reddened and her eyes black with need as she breathed heavily.

“Not unless you crown me,” she said, her voice unsteady.  Bringing her hand to his face, she added, “until then, a sniff is all you’ll get of my cunt.”

Quick as lightening, Daemon took her hand in his and brought her slick fingers to his mouth, sucking them between his lips.  He almost laughed at the look on her face as he tasted her tangy honey; her jaw dropped and her eyes wide.

“Delicious,” Daemon murmured, his eyes locked on hers.  For a moment, he almost thought she’d give in despite her words, but she quickly shook her head and walked over to her dress.

“Cr...crown me, Daemon,” Rhaenys stammered as she got dressed. “Crown me, and you can have me.”

Daemon waited until her dress was back on to step forward and wrap an arm around her, pulling her close.  Leaning down, he whispered, “when I crown you, I’m going to have you in every way a man can have a woman.”

Rhaenys rubbed her thighs together and whimpered.  She didn’t say another word but just opened the door enough to slip out and closed it behind her.  Daemon rested his head against the door and tried to calm down, his cock so hard that it hurt.  Before he got anything else done that day, he was going to have to deal with it.

*****

“He really is very good,” Aegon commented as Loras and Lyn Corbray broke their lances against each other’s shields.  It was the fifth for Lyn and the sixth for Loras.

“He’s already one of the finest knights in the realm,” Margaery gushed, tracing her fingers over Aegon’s hand subtly.

As she watched the joust, Rhaenys could see that the Valeman was growing increasingly frustrated, tugging on the reigns of his horse more forcefully.  He wasn’t the first of Loras’ opponents during the joust to seem to have difficulty with his horse either.  The Blackfish had also had such issues, and Rhaenys couldn’t figure out why.  As the knights began their seventh charge, Lyn’s mount again became agitated, and Loras was able to strike true, knocking his opponent from his horse.

The crowd erupted in cheers, the men and women of the Reach the loudest of them all.  Loras took off his helmet as he rode slowly around the field, basking in the attention.  Lyn picked himself up, dusted himself off, and watched his opponent soak up the praise.  Rhaenys couldn’t see his face, but she’d guess that he was glaring at the younger knight.

“What in the seven hells was wrong with that horse?”she wondered to herself.

“Such an exciting match,” her father commented.

Switching to Valyrian, she quietly asked, “father is it true that he’s set to become a kingsguard?”

Her father cocked an eyebrow at her and replied, “someone’s been speaking out of turn.  He is one of the candidates that I’ve been looking at to replace the White Bull.”

“Are things looking that grim?” Rhaenys asked.

“Yes,” her father said sadly. “Arthur’s already taken on most of his duties as commander.  Do you have an opinion on the matter of our flowery knight?”

“He seems like a fair warrior,” Rhaenys commented. “It will be odd being guarded by a knight younger than I am, I must say.”

“How do you think I feel?” her father laughed.

“Yes, but I’m still young,” Rhaenys said cheekily, earning a half-serious glare from him.

“You two and your Valyrian,” her mother sighed. “What’s so secret, anyway?”

“We were just discussing her choice of champion,” her father said.

“I’d say Daemon’s done well so far,” Rhaenys said, giving her father a grateful smile.

“Yes, both of our champions have made it to the semi-final round,” Margaery said, smiling at her.

Rhaenys returned her smile and noticed that Daemon had entered the field. She tried to ignore the flutter in her belly that had come every time she had seen him since that day in his chambers.  She had walked away from his solar that day in a lustful daze after their encounter.

Hehad been back in Kings Landing for only a few moons at that point, and, though they had gotten on so well that anyone who saw them together might not guess that they had spent most of their lives apart, she clearly didn’t know him as well as she thought, because that seductive, sinful creature came out of nowhere.

“Delicious,” Daemon murmured, his eyes locked on hers.  Gods above, she had nearly had him then and there.

People had spoken of the possibility of wedding her to Aegon back in the day, though their father ultimately let them try to find acceptable matches themselves.  She loved her brother, but he was not her type.  She didn’t much care to be queen, either, so she hadn’t been at all bothered when he started courting Margaery.  Her tastes ran darker than her bookish brother.  She liked warriors, men who were tall, dark, and dangerous; who could tower over her and who were so much stronger than her that she was weak by comparison.  In her fantasies, her lover was massive, a hulking, brutish thing who could bend her over, split her open, and take her again and again until she was too exhausted to move a muscle.  Aegon was not such a man, but Daemon…

“when I crown you, I’m going to have you in every way a man can have a woman.”

She rubbed her thighs together and tried to quell the heat building in her core.  A trip to Chataya’s brothel and an hour with Alayaya’s wonderfully skilled tongue had helped with the state Daemon had left her in last time, but she couldn’t exactly slip away to have her cunt eaten by a whore just now.

“I hope he’s up to this challenge,” Aegon commented as Daemon’s opponent took his place.

Gregor Clegane was a brutish man.  A hulking, violent giant, he was as though some god had taken everything that Rhaenys liked in men, put them together, and then exaggerated the characteristics to the point of near-parody to create a grotesque monstrosity.  He had injured every opponent who crossed his path in the tourney so far, and Rhaenys would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little concerned for Daemon, but he was one of the few knights that she had seen ride today who she thought might be able to beat the Mountain.

Neither horse had a problem in this match as the two knights charged at each other.  Daemon sat back in his saddle, looking far more at ease than the Mountain, who was leaning forward and poised to hit his opponent as hard as he possibly could.  Neither man’s lance found its mark on that pass, and the two quickly turned around.

On their second pass, Daemon’s lance broke on Ser Gregor’s shield, pushing the giant of a man back in his saddle.  He didn’t look close to being pushed off, though, and as Daemon took up a new lance and changed, Rhaenys noticed that he had changed his stance in his saddle.  The two both broke their lances on the next pass, and though she doubted that the blow tickled, Daemon kept himself upright seemingly without effort.

The two charged each other again and again, trading blows and littering the grounds with splintered wood.  Seeing her valonqar handle himself so well against the enormous Ser Gregor really highlighted for Rhaenys just how strong he was.  The crowd gasped as one as Ser Gregor’s lance came perilously close to getting lodged in Daemon’s head, and she saw her father tense as she did.

“End this, Daemon,” he muttered.

Rhaenys’ heart hammered in her chest as she saw the two knights turn around.  Neither had broken a lance on that pass, and so there was no need to wait even a moment.  Charging forward, she saw Daemon was sitting more forward in his saddle.  At the last possible moment, he leaned out of the way of Ser Gregor’s lance and tilted his own so it would pass just by the giant’s shield.  Catching him near the collarbone, Daemon hurled Ser Gregor from his horse, and the entire crowd heard the crash of his great weight hitting the ground.

“Daemon!” she shouted, rising to her feet and clapping.  Her exclamation was drowned out by the cheers erupting from the rest of the crowd, though it made her feel no less embarrassed when her family and Margaery started staring at her.

“I had no idea you and Daemon were so close,” Daenerys commented innocently, though she could see the humor in the younger girl’s violet eyes.

“I did give him my favor, after all,” Rhaenys huffed.

The field was cleared, and before long, Ser Loras and Ser Gerold Dayne took to the field.  Ser Arthur had deigned not to enter the lists for this tourney, and while Rhaenys would have expected him to be proud that his cousin had made it so far, the man’s face was stoney as he watched the men charge at each other.

Gerold Dayne was a competent rider and commanded his horse well, but he seemed to be having the same problem that Ser Lyn’s horse had.  The animal whinnied, and Rhaenys noticed that Ser Gerold had to strain to keep him straight as he charged at his opponent.  Neither knight hit their target on the first charge, and, absent such excitement, Rhaenys was able to keep a closer eye on the horses.

“Ser Gerold’s horse seems oddly interested in Ser Loras’,” she thought to herself. “It’s as though without the constant pressure from his rider, he would happily follow after hi...her!”

A sudden possibility occurred to the princess that made the strange behavior of some of the mounts of Ser Loras’ opponents make more sense.

“Were I watching from the ground, I’d probably get an eye full of unsheathed horse cock,” she thought to herself dryly. “That cheating cunt!”

“Pardon me, I wish to check on Daemon before the final match,” Rhaenys said.

“You don’t want to watch the rest of this one?” Margaery asked.

“I’m confident your brother’s going to win,” Rhaenys said as warmly as she could force. “Ser Jaime, come with me.”

“Yes, Princess,” he said.

“Tell him I’m proud that he’s made it this far,” her father said, while her mother just gave her a pointed look.  They were going to have a conversation about Daemon soon, she suspected, one that would be far simpler if she wasn’t planning to fuck him, but that would be a problem for later.

Making her way quickly over to where Daemon was staying, she walked into the room and noticed that he was out of his armor.  The muscles of his back were tantalizing in a way she never would have expected, and she felt heat pool between her thighs at the sight.

Turning around as he heard her approach, he said, “Rhaenys?”

If the view of his back was nice, his muscular chest and abdomen were mouth-watering, though the spectacular bruises already forming marred him somewhat.

“I hope you’re up for your final challenge,” Rhaenys commented.

“I think I can handle Ser Loras,” Daemon said confidently.

“He wasn’t the challenge I was talking about,” Rhaenys said, her voice sultry.

“Leave us,” Daemon said to his squire, Bran,who dutifully wandered out of earshot.

“Loras’ mare is in heat,” Rhaenys whispered in his ear.

“What?” Daemon asked. “Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t smell her cunt from the stands, but it would explain some of what I’ve seen,” Rhaenys said. “A few of his more challenging opponents have had trouble controlling their horses.  Men like Lyn Corbray and Gerold Dayne, skilled riders who shouldn’t look like children on their first ponies.”

“Why would he cheat, though?” Daemon asked. “He’s a skilled knight in his own right and a Tyrell.  The prize money is hardly something he needs.”

“The prize he’s looking for is a white cloak,” Rhaenys said. “That’s why Margaery’s been so fucking annoying, I’d bet.  She’s been talking up his skills to everyone who will listen, preparing them for the tourney.  My guess is that they think if he wins, it will be proof of his skill and suitability to replace Ser Gerold.”

“And to everyone who hears her, Margaery appears like a doe-eyed waif excited over the prospect of being crowned by the winner of the tourney,” Daemon mused.  “A good showing in a tourney and the word of a princess have been enough to give a man a white cloak in the past.”

“She’s not a princess yet,” Rhaenys said petulantly. “You have a mare you could ride instead your stallion, right?”

“Yes,” Daemon said.

A throng of applause rang out, signaling the end of the match.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Rhaenys said. “Good luck, Valonqar.”

*****

Daemon winced as he rolled his sore shoulder on his way to his chambers.  As much as he didn’t care for tourneys, he had to admit that he had enjoyed himself.

On their third pass, with each knight on their second lance, Daemon struck true, hitting Ser Loras square in the chest and propelling him to the ground.  Dismounting as his opponent struggled to his feet, Daemon helped him up and shook his hand.  He didn’t care about the other knight’s underhanded tactics and was happy enough to have beaten him.  Signaling to Bran, the boy brought over a crown of flowers.  It was a mixture of white lilies and purple pansies, alternating back and forth across the wreath.

Remounting his mare, Daemon secured the crown on the end of his lance and cantered over to where his family sat.  He saw a minute flicker of rage on Margaery’s face before she schooled it into a smile, but most of his attention was on Rhaenys, who was outright beaming at him.

“It is my honor to name as the Queen of Love and Beauty, Rhaenys Targaryen,” he called aloud, extending his lance to her.  She accepted the crown, a mix of joy, satisfaction, and carnal hunger on her face as she beheld him and placed the crown on her head.

Much cheering and congratulations had followed, though Daemon registered little of it.  His attention was firmly fixed on the woman who was fucking him with her eyes.  Those gorgeous purple orbs had held such promise of sin that he’d been tempted to just carry her off then and there.  Their father would have objected, alas.

Opening the door to his chambers, he was only barely surprised to find Rhaenys lying in his bed, that crown of flowers still firmly on her head.

“Congratulations, Valonqar,” she purred. “I was expecting you sooner.”

“I needed a bath,” Daemon said, “for both our sakes.”

“I could have joined you,” Rhaenys said, and Daemon shuddered at the raw desire in her voice.

“Another time,” Daemon said. “I do have a week, after all.”

“Yes, you do,” Rhaenys said. “A week you more than earned.”

Throwing the sheets off of herself, Rhaenys revealed that the crown of flowers was the only thing she was wearing.

“Seven hells,” Daemon muttered.

“Ready to take your prize?” Rhaenys asked mischievously.  Poking a foot out at him, she continued, “I seem to recall you promising to take me...how did you put it again?”

Daemon took her foot in his hands and stared down at the temptress in his bed. “Every way a man can have a woman.”

“I can think of many ways,” Rhaenys breathed.

Massaging her foot, Daemon smirked down at her, saying, “I wanted to stretch it out over a moon, but you insisted on making me fit it all into a week.”

“Sounds like I might be in trouble,” Rhaenys purred, her lidded eyes black with lust as she stared at him. “I hope it’s the kind of trouble I was imagining as I touched myself in your bed just now.”

Daemon groaned at the image. “You fingered this sweet little cunt in my bed?”

“You were taking so long,” Rhaenys complained, “and watching you win the joust made me so...fucking...wet.”

“Show me,” Daemon breathed, letting go of her foot and sitting on the bed.

Rhaenys smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Show you what?”

Her teasing tone and cocky smirk lit a fire in Daemon that he barely contained.

“I want to watch you play with that hot, slick little cunny of yours,” he said, grinning at the look of raw desire his words put on her face. “I want to watch you spread the tight tunnel that I’m going to ruin with your fingers and polish your little pearl.”

“Fuck, Daemon,” Rhaenys whimpered, spreading her legs lewdly and putting the crown of flowers on a table by the bed.  Her hand went to her cunt, parting the black curls that hid her sex.  She stroked herself lightly, teasingly rubbing her fingers through her folds.

“What were you thinking about as you did this just now?” Daemon asked.

“You worshiping my body,” Rhaenys breathed as she sank two fingers inside herself.

“Naturally,” Daemon grinned.

“You...ahh!” Rhaenys cried as she grabbed and kneaded one of her large breasts. “You licking my cunt.”

“Soon,” Daemon promised.

“You bending me over and stretching me wide with your cock,” Rhaenys moaned, “fucking me into this bed until my throat’s hoarse from screaming.”

The last shred of self-control Daemon had snapped, and he lunged at Rhaenys, covering her body with his and pulling her into a soul-searing kiss.  Rhaenys giggled and moaned into his mouth, grabbing his face and returning his passion with equal fervor.  Their tongues battled for dominance as they took each other like frenzied dragons.  Only when the need for air forced his hand did Daemon pull back, smirking at the obvious desire written on her face.

“Are you a maid?” he asked.

Rhaenys just laughed. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just want to know how careful I’m going to have to be,” Daemon said.

“You don’t have to worry about my maidenhead,” Rhaenys said. “I took care of it long ago.  You are the first man I’ve taken to bed, though.”

“Truly?” Daemon asked.

“Yes, truly,” Rhaenys scoffed. “I might be rather wanton, but this isn’t Sunspear, and I can’t risk a scandal.  I’m a woman, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“There were a couple signs,” Daemon joked, cupping one of her perky tits in his hand.

“Smartass,” Rhaenys whimpered. “You could fuck every servant girl in the Red Keep and it wouldn’t affect your marriage prospects, but if I were caught with one man in my bed, I’d be stuck either marrying him or, if he wasn’t suitable, some old, fat lord looking for a fourth wife to treat like breeding stock.”

“Why risk things with me?” Daemon asked

“I know how to get into these chambers without being noticed,” Rhaenys replied, “and besides that, I wouldn’t mind ending up with you even if we did get caught.”

He didn’t disagree.

Smirking at him with a mischievous glint in her eye, Rhaenys continued, “I didn’t have to bother risking myself with a man anyway, since I was always more than happy with women.”

Daemon’s jaw dropped. “You…”

Rhaenys laughed as he trailed off and brought her slick fingers to her lips, slowly sucking her own essence off of them. “Let’s just say my own cunt isn’t the only one I’ve ever tasted.”

If Daemon grew any harder, he feared it might be dangerous.

“There’s a particular brothel on the Street of Silk that can be reached by a secret tunnel I watched some old, pious lord slip into once,” Rhaenys continued. “Some of the girls there have tongues gifted by the gods.  The proprietor's daughter is particularly talented; she’s a beautiful girl from the Summer Isles.”

“Are...are you talking about Alayaya?” Daemon asked, his whole body nearly shivering with need.

“I take it we have more in common than I knew,” Rhaenys laughed. “With no shortage of women willing to join me in my bed, I’ve honestly not minded having to avoid men.  If Ari’s to be believed, women are generally better at most things anyway, eating cunt in particular.”

Daemon didn’t say another word; he just kissed her neck, making her gasp and sink her fingers into his hair, and continued down towards her breasts.  Cupping the large, surprisingly pert mounds in his hands, he started peppering them with teasing little kisses and licks, purposefully avoiding her hard nipples.

“Daemon,” Rhaenys whined, earning a laugh from him.  When he latched onto one of her nipples, she moaned and said, “bite them.  Be gentle, but I love having them nibbled on.”

He teased the stiff peaks with his teeth, grinning as she gasped and moaned for more.  Daemon had been with women who could cum from having their breasts played alone and with women who got little to no enjoyment out of it unless they were right on the cusp of ecstasy.  Rhaenys, it seemed, was much closer to the former group as she started squirming and crying out under him.

“Touch me, lick me, finger me, fuck me, just do something,” Rhaenys whined. “You’re driving me mad!”

Daemon laughed and kissed his way down her belly until his face was buried in her soft curls.  He inhaled the heady aroma of her weeping slit and barely held back his moan.  She had tasted amazing when he sucked her juices off of her finger that day in his solar, and she smelled even better here.  Parting her curls, he took in the sight of her full, fleshy folds and started kissing her thighs.  It didn’t take long for her to grow impatient.  Grabbing him by his hair, she glared down at him.

“I can take care of this myself if you’re just going to tease me all night,” Rhaenys said.

“You said I could do anything I wanted to you,” Daemon pointed out. “I could tie you to my bed and tease you for hours, if I wished.”

A flash of fear shone through her eyes, and she whimpered, “Daemon, you wouldn’t.”

“Don’t worry, Rhaenys,” Daemon said, smirking. “I have no intention of doing anything like that...tonight.”

Before she could say another word, he buried his face between her thighs and gave one long lick from just above her arsehole to her clit, making her cry out.

“Is that what you wanted?” Daemon asked with a grin.

“Yes,” Rhaenys panted. “More!”

Daemon attacked her cunt with his talented mouth, using every bit of hard-won knowledge he had to reduce her to a moaning mess.  He licked, kissed, and sucked on every nook and cranny of her folds, trying to find out which parts were more sensitive while keeping a near-constant pressure on her throbbing pearl.  As close as she already was from her prior teasing, it didn’t take long for Rhaenys to be reduced to a babbling, incoherent mess.

“Gods, yes!” Rhaenys cried. “More, more!”

Pushing two fingers inside her already quivering hole, he searched around with the pads of his fingers until he brushed against a rough little patch along the top of her cunt.  Rhaenys nearly screamed at the first touch, and Daemon knew it wouldn’t take much more to finish her off.  Rubbing that special little spot inside her, he flicked his tongue against her clit with increasing speed.

“DAEMON!” Rhaenys squealed as she came, her arse rising off the bed as her back arched.  She squirted all over him, soaking his face.  Daemon continued giving her engorged clit teasing little licks throughout her orgasm, only relenting when she finally whined in protest.

Moving back, he wiped his wet face and laughed at how utterly wrecked Rhaenys looked.  Her eyes wide and glassy, she was staring blankly at the canopy over his bed, panting hard, with her hair messy and stuck to her temples by sweat.  He was tempted to go back, to eat her cunt until she came over and over again and see if he could make her pass out from that alone, but his cock demanded attention, and he had denied himself long enough.

Removing his doublet, he tore off his boots and made quick work of his breeches, sighing in relief as his hard cock sprang free into the open air.

“What the fuck?” Rhaenys asked, staring at him with a look of shock on her face.

“This is the true reason I asked if you were a maid,” Daemon said, taking his oversized cock in hand. “The only maidenhead I’ve ever taken belonged to Lord Umber’s bastard daughter, and even with her being as large as you’d expect a girl of his line to be, it was still a challenge.”

“Seven hells,” Rhaenys whispered, crawling over to him, seemingly entranced. “If Ari ever finds out about this, you’ll never be rid of her.”

Daemon laughed and said, “what about you?”

Rhaenys wrapped a hand around his thick cock, whimpering when she saw that her fingers didn’t come close to touching.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she said. “Chataya does have a few fake cocks, and I’ve had Alayaya use a couple of them on me, though neither was this size.”

“How do you want me?” Daemon asked.

“Isn’t this week about what you want?” Rhaenys asked, sounding amused.

“This is your first time with a man; you can choose the position,” Daemon said.

“On my back,” Rhaenys said, sprawling out and spreading her legs wide. “I want to watch it go in.”

“Fuck, Rhaenys,” Daemon groaned.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Rhaenys laughed, making him laugh as well.

Crawling between her legs, he rested his cock on her slick mound and smirked at the wide-eyed look she gave him.  She just nodded, eyes fixed on his throbbing length.  Lining himself up with her hot, wet opening, he pushed gently and groaned as the head of his cock popped inside.

“Oh, fuck!” Rhaenys cried, grabbing at the sheets on either side of her. “That’s so thick!”

“You should see how wide your cunt is stretched around me,” Daemon said, smirking. “You might never be the same.”

“I want it all,” Rhaenys said. “Give me every inch!”

He pushed further, sinking another couple inches inside her almost painfully tight depths.  She was squeezing his length like a hot silk vice, and he couldn’t imagine how she was going to feel when he made her cum around his cock.

“Wow...oh gods...oh fuck,” Rhaenys whimpered as he sank more and more of his cock inside her.

She had been letting out little whimpers and moans since the first couple inches, and as he sank deeper and deeper inside her molten core, she started shaking.  Daemon paused when there were a couple inches left, wanting to give her time to adjust to how thoroughly he had already stretched her and was surprised when she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her.  He groaned as he buried himself balls deep in her body, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her lovely scent.

“So full,” Rhaenys moaned. “You’re like a fucking horse!”

“Are you alright?” Daemon asked, tenderly brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yes, it burns, but I like the burn,” Rhaenys said.

“That should pass,” Daemon reassured her, kissing her deeply.

Rhaenys responded eagerly, sharing her mounting desire openly.  When he felt her finally start to relax, Daemon pulled away and, looking into her eyes, pulled half of his cock out of her depths, only to thrust it back inside.  The look of pleasure on her face told him all he needed to know, and he started fucking her slowly.

“That feels so good,” Rhaenys sighed. “Those fake cocks have nothing on the real thing.”

Daemon just smiled down at her, enjoying the feeling of her vice-like depths clinging to him.  He had had a lot of women in his life, but there was something special about this.

“Faster,” Rhaenys gasped after a while, “harder!  Make me feel it in the morning!”

“You will feel it in the morning,” Daemon assured her, “because I intend to break my fast on your sweet cunt.”

“I’m yours for a week, Valonqar,” Rhaenys said, her purple eyes, so much like his, staring right at him.

Daemon hooked an arm under her knee to spread her legs even wider while using his other hand to pin her wrists to the bed above her head.  Rhaenys looked up at him in shock, completely at his mercy, and he felt her cunt clench involuntarily, making him grunt in pleasure.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll want far more than a week of being mine,” he growled.

He started fucking her properly, splitting her cunt in half again and again with each hard thrust.  The bed creaked and groaned under the force of their coupling, though the sounds made by the heavy wood were nothing compared to Rhaenys’ moans.  The increasingly loud sounds emitting from that sinful mouth of hers echoed through the room, and Daemon grew concerned that someone might recognize her voice.

“You might not want to let the entire castle know that you’re here,” Daemon said through gritted teeth.

Rhaenys’ eyes flashed with mischievous glee, and she grew even louder, screaming her pleasure for all to hear.

“Oh, Daemon, faster, harder!” she cried.  He laughed despite himself, and Rhaenys continued, “they’ll just think I’m a whore you snuck up here.  I’m sure it’s happened before.”

“You want to be taken for a whore?” Daemon asked with an evil grin on his face.

“If that’s how you want to take me,” Rhaenys replied, her eyes alight in challenge.

Daemon pulled out of her abruptly, making her cry out in complaint, only to flip her onto her belly.  Her ass truly was as spectacular as he had imagined.  Running a hand over it, he said, “if you want to be fucked like a whore, all you have to do is beg.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenys whined.

He waited a moment, letting her stew in her own desire before forcefully saying, “beg!”

“Please, Daemon, fuck me!” Rhaenys cried, wiggling her arse enticingly at him. “Fill me to the brim and fuck me until I can’t walk!”

Digging his fingers into her hips, Daemon pulled her back and sank into her snug cunt in one brutal thrust.  Rhaenys cried out in bliss, clawing at the bedding in front of her as though she thought she’d float away.  She was incredibly wet and had stretched open for him beautifully, so he didn’t have to worry about fucking her hard.  His hips clapped loudly against her arse as he pummeled her insides.  Her hot cunt was heaven, and all thought of keeping things quiet left his mind as he lost himself inside her.  Reaching under her, he started stroking her clit and pinched one of her nipples.

Rhaenys was babbling incoherently between screams by that point, but the added stimulation proved too much, and she shrieked to the heavens as she came undone.  Groaning her name into her shoulder, Daemon came a second later, filling her up with his seed.  The two of them writhed together as pleasure fried their brains, and then collapsed in a heap as it ended.

Daemon could barely remember his own name as he came down from the greatest orgasm he had ever had.  As he finally recovered enough strength to move, he rolled off of her, panting for air on his back.

“Amazing,” Rhaenys panted, dragging herself over so she could rest her head on his chest.

He ran his fingers lazily through her long, dark hair, holding her tight.  He had expected fucking Rhaenys would be fun, but that was cosmic.  Sighing happily to himself, he realized that he was in for one hell of a week.