Legacy of the Dragon Ch. 02

DAENERYS

The morning after Dany's first night with Lucas, after they broke fast, she was taken by him down into the city proper, where he found a 'septon,' a priest who followed the Faith of the Seven. Then, after a pouch of coin exchanged hands, the septon took them to a small chamber with an altar. Dany wore a long cloak that Lucas had instructed her to wear, sewn by Clare. It was Dany's 'maiden's cloak,' Lucas had explained. It was pitch black and emblazoned with the blood-red likeness of a dragon thrice-headed, the Targaryen sigil. After the septon had them say vows to each other, Lucas slipped the Targaryen cloak from Dany's shoulders and replaced it with a Velaryon one, her 'bride's cloak,' blueish green and emblazoned with that same likeness of a silver seahorse that adorned so many coats of arms in the manse. Dany wore her bride's cloak during the trip home.

And that was that. They were then husband and wife. Lucas's words from their first night, 'It'll only be a formality,' rang true to Dany that morning. That first time they lay together had seemed far more passionate and meaningful than those strange vows and that awkward exchanging of cloaks.

When Dany slept that second night in the manse, lying on her side in bed with Lucas behind her, she clutched the dragon eggs against her belly. Lucas did not object. He knew what she felt for them.

Dany had grown swiftly and intensely attached to the eggs. It was her touch that had awoken them from their stone slumber. She had given them life, and that meant she was their mother. Dany did not know how she awoke the eggs, and Lucas did not know either, but both knew that they were bound to her in a way they were not bound to him. It felt to Dany like her soul was linked to theirs.

Dany dreamt of the dragons every night. Lucas said he did too, but that he dreamt of them in shadows, under only moonlight. Dany dreamt of them in clear day, under the sunlight, where she could marvel at their glory. One had scales like rubies, red and vibrant, and had wing flesh the color of gold. He was the biggest and most dominant of the brood, with the fiercest snarl that bared the longest teeth. The second had scales as bright blue as the Summer Sea and wings as green as growing grass. He was capricious and playful. He loved to soar just above the ocean, skimming his wings against the water and snatching up any creature of the sea that dared to swim too close to the surface. The third had scales like diamonds, milky white and brilliant, and wings of pale purple. It was a she-dragon, and she was the calmest and quietest of the brood. To Dany, the diamond dragon was the most dazzling sight of the three. Dany often dreamt of herself astride her, with Lucas astride the ruby dragon beside them.

Whenever Dany spoke of her dreams to Lucas, he always listened raptly. He had said that her dreams were more than fantasies, that she was seeing the future in them. And he had told her to start thinking of names for the dragons, because it would be her right to give them.

The day after they were wedded, Lucas commanded the maidservants to bathe Dany in their bedchamber while he and Tobas ran errands down in the city. Dany was nervous at first, but after the maids smoothly disrobed her and gently eased her into a wooden tub lined with thick linens and filled with hot water, her nerves were soon soothed.

Magister Illyrio's servants had bathed her as well, and Dany hadn't enjoyed it very much, but Elayna and Clare were nothing like them. Illyrio's servants had been rough and crude with her, grooming her like she was a horse, and they never said a word to her. Elayna and Clare groomed her elegantly and tenderly, and they spoke sweetly and softly.

"Tend to the lady's hair," Clare said. Elayna did as her elder bid. She lathered something sudsy into Dany's silver-blonde hair before soaking it in a small bucket of warm water and working it with her hands.

Elsewhere, Clare took a bathbrush with soft bristles and scrubbed Dany with gentle but firm strokes. When the bathbrush pressed into her left breast, Dany winced. Her bosom had become unusually tender that day, and she did not know why.

Clare noticed her wince. The maid's hand fell still. "When did you last bleed, my lady?" she asked.

Dany looked to Clare, confused. "What?"

"Your moon blood, my lady. When did you last bleed it?"

"Oh." Dany had to think on it for a moment. "A fortnight ago," Dany finally said.

Clare nodded. "We'll know soon then." She resumed her scrubbing, now markedly gentler.

Dany was confused again. "Know what?"

"If you're with child, my lady. If you don't bleed, then we'll know. Lord Lucas's mother birthed him the same year she wedded his father. You'll likely do the same. The seed is swift."

Dany nodded slowly, chewing on that. She knew it was natural for a lord and lady to produce progeny, that it was expected of them even, but she had not thought of it much. Lucas and his servants all seemed so eager for it. Perhaps Dany ought to have been too. But she did not know pregnancy, nor childbirth, nor motherhood, and she was not eager for things she did not know. The unknown was frightening, and Dany was easily frightened. She wished she wasn't. But she knew the day the dragons hatched would be the end of her fear. 'When they've grown and matured,' Lucas had said as they'd gazed upon the eggs together, 'when they can swallow the Usurper whole, when they can melt Casterly Rock with their fire ... we'll fear no one.' Those fantasies gave Dany strength like she'd never known.

Clare's bathbrush travelled lower and lower, first to Dany's taut stomach, then to her upper groin, and then to that place between her legs, to the silver and the pink. The maid was gentlest there. "My lady, if you suffer any ... discomfort when you lay with your husband, there are those who make salves for that. It's not unusual for younger ladies to suffer some pain. There's no shame in it. I could ask Lord Lucas about acquiring the salve, on your behalf."

"There's no pain," Dany told the maid.

Clare seemed doubtful. "None at all?"

Dany shook her head plainly. "There was at first. The first time. Not anymore."

Clare gave Dany a motherly smile, as she so often did. "Very good, my lady."

Dany had no qualms over speaking of such intimacy with the maids. She had not known them for long, but she did not need to. They were always so sweet and affectionate towards her. It made it easy to be open with them. Everyone in the manse was so kind and caring. They were so unlike anyone Dany had ever known, save only for Ser Willem Darry in the house with the red door. The manse's smell was a comfort too. While so many of the places Dany had traveled with Viserys had smelled of strange, foreign scents, Lucas's manse smelled just like Ser Willem's house. It smelled like home. Lucas would likely tell her that it smelled like Westeros, but Dany did not know Westeros. Not yet.

Will we sail there? Dany wondered. Or will we fly?

"You two are a perfect union," Elayna said cheerily. "A Velaryon and a Targaryen. A marriage of dragonlords. Just as it so often was before. The Gods will have him put a baby in your belly soon. It'll be a boy, doubtless. Strong and healthy too. And then you'll have the whelps as well. The Seven are smiling on you." After a thoughtful pause, Elayna abruptly added, "I bet he's a wonderful lover."

Clare shot her younger counterpart a less than approving glare. "Elayna fancies Lord Lucas," she explained. "But she knows better than to attempt to act on it. She is but smallfolk. He is the rightful Lord of Driftmark, Master of the Tides. And now he has you."

"And I'm far too old for him," Elayna noted with a self-inflicting harshness, suddenly frowning. "I'd been sad for him for so long, not having a lady. All lords should have ladies, you know."

Dany gave Elayna a queer look. She was an odd woman, Elayna. She seemed somewhat touched in the head at times. It was strange for a woman with white in her hair to be so young in her heart.

Elayna's sadness left her as sudden as it came, and her lips curled up into a genuinely joyful smile. "There aren't many ladies deserving of him, but you're one of them. You're a Targaryen. Your family is legend."

Lucas and his servants spoke of the Targaryen legacy almost as often as Viserys had. Dany was never sure what to say when they celebrated it. The grandness and accomplishments they spoke of were not hers. Aegon the Conqueror, she had never known. Baelor the Blessed, she had never known. Even her eldest brother Rhaegar, who they praised most of all, she had never known. The only other Targaryen that Dany had known was Viserys, and he was not grand or accomplished, not at all.

Dany wondered if Viserys had often thought about her since he gave her to Lucas. When she realized that he likely had not, she suffered a cold chill and an ache in her heart. She decided she would try not to think of him again. Not for a while, at least.

"Could you roll over, my lady?" Clare asked sweetly. "It will only be for a moment."

"Alright," Dany said without protest. She grabbed the side of the tub and rolled herself over, onto her belly. She rested her chin atop the edge of the tub and shut her eyes. She felt Clare's bathbrush scrub her swiftly, first in her armpits, then over her shoulder blades, then her lower back, and then the crack of her arse. Clare lifted Dany's legs to scrub the soft soles of her feet. It was immensely ticklish. Dany's feet twitched, and she could not stop herself from giggling.

"All done, my lady," Clare said.

Dany rolled and returned to her back. The maids grabbed a nail file and a little pick. Elayna began jabbering on and on as they cleaned the nails of Dany's hands and feet. Dany found herself paying less and less attention; she desired less to listen and more to relax. Clare soon noticed that. "Hush now, Elayna," Clare said. "Let the lady rest."

Then came silence at last. Dany closed her eyes, relaxed her body, and let out a long sigh.

Eventually, the maid's hands ceased their movements across her body. When Dany finally opened her eyes and returned to the world around her, she wondered how long she must've been resting. The hot water had cooled, and Dany's fingers and toes had thoroughly pruned. The two maids sat on stools at each side of her, watching her silently, awaiting her command. They had made her as clean as was possible. Her nails had been trimmed, and the crevices beneath them had been scoured spotless and white. Elayna had brushed the hair of Dany's head till it was smooth like silk, and Clare had clipped the shorthairs between Dany's legs till they were groomed down to a stubble.

In Clare's lap was stacked what Dany assumed would be what they intended to dress her in: a silver brassiere and a matching silver underskirt, a lilac-colored, one-garment gown, and a pair of white, polished sandals. "Are you ready, my lady?" Clare asked. There was no sense of hurry or haste in her voice. Dany did not doubt that they would wait for hours if she asked it of them. But the cooled water would soon give her chills, and she preferred warmth.

"Yes," Dany said.

That evening, after Dany and Lucas supped on black bread, a wedge of cheese, and a suckling boar, they retired to their bedchamber. While Tobas circled the room and struck alight fresh candles with a tinderbox, Dany went to the crate on Lucas's desk and caressed the dragon eggs in their nest of straw and blankets. They had become so warm now. She hoped the whelps within could feel their mother's touch.

When Tobas finished with the candles, he started for the door. Before leaving, he turned and bowed low. "My lord, my lady," he said. Dany gave him a nod, and with that, the steward departed through the door.

When Dany turned away from the eggs, she found Lucas standing by their bed with his back to her. He had an arm wrapped around one of the tall bedposts. There was something off about the way he stood. He looked almost ... uncertain. It was only the second such time Dany had seen him so. The last time, when Lucas had gazed upon the dragons that were locked away from him, Dany had been the one that solved his uncertainty. She wondered if she could do so again. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Lucas uncoiled his arm from the bedpost and turned to face her. He took in the sight of Dany for a short moment before he spoke. "Daenerys," he said, "you're not a slave. You know that, don't you?"

Dany nodded. "Yes," she said.

Lucas fell silent again. Eventually, he said, "You're my wife now, Daenerys. My father taught me that a husband has a duty to hear what his wife has to say. 'Even if he never obeys her, he should always hear her.' And so I ask you ... do I displease you? Does any of this," he said as he gestured around himself, to the bedchamber at large, "displease you?"

Dany shook her head. "No," she said.

Lucas came closer, till he stood over Dany, peering down at her. He was much taller than her, yet she never felt small in his presence. "So ... you want this too?" Lucas asked, gazing into her eyes. "Our life ... our marriage ... our dragons ... our fates ... all of it?"

Dany did not shy away from his gaze. "All of it," she said.

Something lit up within Lucas's eyes. Waiving any more words, he leaned down and captured Dany's lips in a kiss. Dany's eyes fell shut. Lucas's moist lips passionately played with hers, gently tugging and audibly smacking. Dany soon felt his tongue sweep over her lips. She opened her mouth for him, letting his tongue enter to slather hers. It was a long-lasting kiss. Dany focused on the feeling of lips mingling and tongues dancing.

Then, in a single swift flourish, Lucas wrapped one strong arm around the small of Dany's back and squeezed her soft arse with the large hand of the other, not to grope her, but to lift her. Lucas lifted Dany in his arms with a startling ease, like a child picking up a doll. She wrapped her legs around his hips to make the task of carrying her easier, but she sensed that it wasn't needed. Lucas carried her to his bed -- their bed -- and sat her on the edge of it, where she released him from her legs. Dany helped Lucas undress her. As he began unfastening and slipping off her sandals, she pulled her gown over her head. Next, as he pulled her underskirt down her legs and off her feet, she reached behind herself and unclasped her brassiere. When she slipped it off and it fell away, her nakedness was fully bared to him.

Dany was pale, whiter than milk, and was only growing paler, barely touched by the sun. Her body was slight and petite, yet womanly, with a slender waist that was noticeably narrower than her torso and hips. Her breasts were somewhat small, but they were perky and shapely. Their little nipples were a bright pink, the same color of the slit between her legs.

Lucas's hands were on Dany in an instant, caressing her, admiring the softness and smoothness of her nubile flesh. He first fondled her sensitive breasts, cupping and petting them. He was gentle enough that it did not hurt. His hands then brushed over her taut stomach as they moved southwards. Lucas grasped her slender thighs and stroked them. A heat soon gathered in Dany's loins. Before Lucas could push apart her legs, Dany parted them for him, opening them wide. Lucas leered at that place between them, at the slit of slim, pink lips tucked into a cleft stubbled with soft, silver-blonde hair.

Lucas crouched down. As high as the mattress of their bed was from the floor, he did not have to crouch down far. He brought his head closer and closer between Dany's open legs, till she could feel his hot breath puff onto her slit. When Lucas spread her silver-haired cleft with a thumb and forefinger, he found her inner pinkness glistening. After looking upon it for a little while, he took his hand away and let her flesh close. Then, suddenly, Lucas dove down, nestled his nose in her shorthairs, and began kissing Dany in that place between her legs.

Before, in his lust, Lucas had never lingered in that place. Before, he had seemed to kiss Dany there for only long enough to further wet and swell her flesh, to ready her for his manhood.

But that night, he lingered.

Lucas kissed Dany's slit with an eager passion. His efforts were numerous and various. He first ran the flat of his saliva-slick tongue through her pinkness, sliding that warm, wet muscle through a place that was even warmer and wetter. Then he took one of her inner lips into his mouth and rolled and tugged on it till it slipped free. Then he closed his mouth over the little hooded button that crowned her slit and sucked at it, pulling it between his lips. The sharpness of that last act's pleasure took Dany by surprise, and she mewled girlishly.

Lewd sounds filled the bedchamber as Lucas dined between Dany's legs. There were smooches, slurps, moans, and groans. The sounds only seemed wetter as time passed.

Dany's pleasure grew from warm blooms, to hot pangs, and then to fiery bolts of bliss. Her breath hastened, and she began to gasp. The intensity of it was unlike anything she had ever felt. An unfamiliar pressure began building within her very core, as though inside her was the string of a high harp being tightened and tightened. Dany's legs closed around Lucas's head, warming his ears with her smooth thighs.

"Lucas," Dany said. Lucas's eyes flicked up to hers when he heard her, but Dany said not another word. She was not sure whether to plead for him to stop, or to plead for more.

Lucas did not stop. He gave her more.

Lucas's efforts grew more fervent. His tongue brushed her firmer, his mouth rolled her lips faster, and he sucked her button tighter. Dany found herself twisting and shifting her hips as Lucas pleasured her, directing his lips and tongue to exactly where she desired them. Lucas followed those wordless directions to perfection.

When Lucas's hands ventured upwards and squeezed her sensitive breasts, Dany let out a sudden, shrill cry. It was the loudest she had cried out in longer than she could remember. It was not of pain, but of pleasure. Lucas locked his eyes with hers again when he heard it, leering at her with his pale blue gaze. With his hands on her breasts, his mouth sucking her wetness, and his icy eyes gazing into hers, the tension on Dany's harp string soon grew too great for it to bear. When Lucas buried her button beneath his tongue and stroked it up and down, the string snapped.

Dany's body clenched. Her eyes jammed shut, her shoulders bunched, her gut tensed, and her thighs locked tightly around Lucas's head. She cried out with the last of the breath she held in her lungs. Strong contractions worked through her as fiery bliss spread outwards through her flesh, wave after wave. Dany squealed between gritted teeth as her body rocked into Lucas's face.

When the last contraction left her, Dany's eyes gingerly opened, as did her locked thighs, freeing Lucas from their grip. She peered down at him between her legs. He was gazing upon her swollen slit. A milky-colored cream now oozed from her pinkness. Dany did not know what it was, but Lucas was unfazed by the sight of it. He leaned closer again and lapped it away on his tongue.

After looking upon Dany's swollen slit for a little longer, Lucas stood straight and began shedding his clothes. When he was bare, he climbed into bed.

Dany shifted towards the bed's headpost. She laid herself flat on her back, laid her head atop a pillow, and laid her arms at her sides. When Lucas crawled closer, Dany opened her legs for him, allowing him to plant his knees between them.

Dany gulped thickly as she gazed upon Lucas's bare body. He was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a visible tone to his tight chest and abdomen. His manhood was tall and strong too, and stiffer than steel. It rose from an unwieldly thicket of coarse, brown hair, with a loose, scraggly sack swaying below. My husband, Dany thought as she looked upon him.