Legacy of the Dragon Ch. 02

As Dany gazed at his nakedness, Lucas did the same at hers. He admired first her perky breasts, which he then gently groped. Then he admired the pink slit between her legs, where he would soon take his pleasure. Then he admired her face, where his gaze lingered longest of all. "You are so bloody beautiful," he muttered.

Dany nibbled her bottom lip beneath a smile. And you're so handsome, she wished she had the courage to say.

Lucas lowered himself, coming closer to Dany. When he planted his hands atop each of hers at her sides, she entwined her fingers through his. She wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her feet together above his firm arse. Lucas eased himself further down, till his chest hovered just over Dany's breasts. The sharp contrast between their flesh was poetic. They were like all the songs of kings and queens. Lucas was hard, muscular, and sunkissed, and his hands and feet were rough and well-worked. Like a king. Dany was soft, smooth, and pale, and her hands and feet were silky and never-labored. Like a queen.

'A perfect union' echoed in Dany's mind. As Lucas prepared to bed her again, as he prodded his swollen crown against the lower end of her pink slit, nothing seemed truer.

Dany did not see Lucas enter her, but she felt him. A stiffness pushed inside her. He entered her with a smooth ease, welcomed by her slick wetness. She felt his thick manhood widen her walls as it glided through her. Dany was never sure how Lucas would fit his large manhood inside her little slit, but he always managed. When the last of him was sheathed inside her, Dany glanced down. The shorthairs of their crotches were mingling, mixing fair silver-blonde with hearty brown.

Lucas went slow at first, easing that stiffness in and out. That friction of flesh had a different feel to Dany that night, now that her harp string had snapped. It felt hotter and hazier. Lucas let out a long sigh from the bottom of his lungs. Dany wondered what he felt when he was inside her, when his stiffness pushed and pulled inside her snug sheath. She hoped it felt good. She hoped his harp string was tightening, like hers had. She was almost certain it was. She could see the pleasure in his face.

Lucas hastened. He began to grunt. His hips bucked fiercely, thrusting his stiffness into Dany harder and faster. The sharp sound of slapping flesh rang off the walls as Lucas pummeled Dany's small body beneath his own. Dany's pale breasts bounced on her chest, rocked by his thrusts. Lucas watched them go up and down, his eyes tracking her bright pink nipples.

Lucas was not pacing himself. His harp string would snap soon. If this night would be like the ones before it, he would kiss Dany before long. He always kissed her when he finished.

But Dany decided she would kiss him first.

She wriggled her hands free from beneath Lucas's. Then she draped her arms over the back of his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him deeply. Their eyes gazed into each other's for a moment, one pair blue, the other violet, before they shut.

Lucas's harp string snapped. He sheathed himself to Dany's hilt and groaned into their kiss. Dany felt his stiffness twitch inside her. His chest heaved and sputtered, wrought with palpable pleasure. When his stiffness gave its final and faintest twitch, his full weight collapsed atop her.

The warmth between Dany's legs was a little warmer now.

Eventually, Lucas broke their kiss and their embrace. They both opened their eyes. Lucas pushed himself up and rose to his knees. Dany knew he would. He always gazed between her legs after he took his pleasure.

Dany sat up straight. She too wanted to look upon herself that night. She had never looked between her legs afterwards. She was curious.

Dany's pinkness was gaping around Lucas's manhood. She had never seen it open so wide. She hadn't thought it could. When Lucas slowly pulled out of her, his crown slipped free with a wet sound, and Dany's pinkness closed into the slit she was accustomed to. Lucas gave a little shudder and sigh. Dany glanced at his manhood. It was glistening with her wetness, slick and shining from crown to root. Dany gulped thickly again. She liked seeing his manhood wet from her flesh.

Then, suddenly, a thick white drooled out of the little hole at the bottom of Dany's slit. Lucas spread her with a thumb and forefinger again to better admire the sight of it leaving her. The white flowed slowly from her pinkness, oozing out of her hole and trickling down the crack of her arse. It was warm. Dany saw Lucas's throat shift while he watched, gulping just as she had. He liked seeing her hole filled with his white.

Dany wondered if Lucas would make so much seed had he taken any other woman as a wife. With a small smile, she thought not.

The following month was uneventful, but that uneventfulness was a revelation itself. Dany did not bleed. She and the maids together revealed to Lucas what they confirmed: Dany carried his child. Dany would never forget how unsurprised Lucas was. He grinned like he'd never grinned before, and he took Dany into the tightest embrace yet, but he held no hint of astonishment and spoke no words of shock. It was like he'd already been sure of it.

In their first night together, Dany had told Lucas that he was nothing like her brother. Those words only proved truer and truer as weeks passed. Dany was often in need of Lucas's learning in various matters, in marriage, in the life of the lady, and in the traditions of their families, but while Viserys would've scolded her or even struck her for her ignorance of his birthrights and his authority, Lucas instead gave her his knowledge with affection, rather than contempt. And it was not long before that affection bloomed into something much more, for both of them.

Love was a strong word, and for the longest time, Dany had not fully understood it. Ser Willem had once told her that a brother and sister ought to love each other greatly. Dany had always loved her brother, and still did, but the way he had treated her in return never seemed at all like love. Viserys had not seemed to truly love anything.

But Dany knew love with Lucas. Of that she was certain. The way he touched her, the way he held her, even the way he spoke to her, it all made her feel so cherished, as though she were his glittering silver treasure.

It took time for Dany to adjust to life at Lucas's side. At Viserys's side, Dany had cowered, meek and timid, fearful of waking the 'dragon' that Viserys claimed to be. With Lucas, no such fear was needed. Lucas was a true dragon, strong and brave. Dany knew she could be strong and brave too, in time.

Peaceful months passed. Lucas took his pleasure every night. Many mornings too. Sometimes it would even be the middle of the day when he took Dany's hand and led her to their bedchamber. His lust for her was blazing. Most often, Lucas took his pleasure between Dany's legs. Sometimes he asked that she use her mouth. Dany discovered the taste of his seed. It was somewhat salty, but largely flavorless. It was easy to swallow. Dany always welcomed Lucas's desire. She felt that their lust and love were linked; each strengthened the other.

Before Lucas, Dany had known next to nothing of lovemaking, beyond that it entailed the man entering the woman, and that it was how children were made. Not long ago, on a day that he was furious at her, Viserys had told Dany that it would hurt horribly her first time. 'You'll bleed and scream,' he said with a twisted sneer. Dany could still see that sneer in her mind's eye. But he was wrong. It had hurt, but not horribly. She did bleed, but never screamed. In the months with Lucas, Dany learned the truths of lovemaking, and learned them swift. She saw how much her body entranced him, whether it be her breasts, arse, or the pinkness between her legs. She learned how a woman could kiss a man's stiffness, and how he could kiss her down there. There were many ways to express one's lust, Dany realized. And Lucas's lust never slowed, not even as Dany's belly swelled with his child.

It was sixteen weeks into their marriage when the bump first showed in Dany's belly. By the thirty-eighth week, her belly had bloated into a great big swell, forcing her to wear looser and looser gowns. Clare had warned Dany that she would likely suffer from various unpleasantries of being with child, but Dany did not suffer many. She was a little achy, a little sleepy, had to urinate often, and had a curiously intense craving for cheese. Not much else. Clare had said that Dany should consider herself fortunate for that.

Then, in the ninth month of their marriage, on a brisk but still warm morning in Volantis's coolest time of the year, it was as if all the excitement Dany and Lucas had avoided was thrust upon them in one day.

Dany and Lucas stood facing the tall mirror in their bedchamber. Dany wore a gown of the softest silk. It was dyed pale purple, and it was loose enough to accommodate her massively swollen belly. Lucas loved to have Dany dressed in purples and violets, to match the color of her eyes. Standing just behind her, Lucas wore a lordly, midnight black doublet with teal trimmings and small sapphires for buttons, as well as a matching pair of black trousers. His bejeweled sword was fastened to his belt at his left hip. His arms were wrapped around Dany, cupping the huge swell of her pregnant belly.

Dany had become nearly two stone heavier since her first day with Lucas, and all the added weight seemed to be entirely in her belly. Her limbs were no thicker, her face no fatter. Her breasts had swollen somewhat, but she still could not be called buxom. Her breasts could still not fill Lucas's large hands. Her belly had swollen much more than they.

"He'll arrive any day now," Lucas mused with a warm smile. "Our beautiful boy."

It would be a boy. A medicine man Lucas had taken Dany to had revealed as much.

"Yes," Dany said, smiling with him. She wished she had more to say than that. Lucas was better with words than her.

Dany felt the baby kick within her womb. Their boy was always most active when Lucas was with her. Clare had told her that her son could already hear voices, even from within her belly. The baby knew the sound of his father.

"Do you think he'll have your hair and eyes?" Lucas asked as he gazed at Dany's belly in the mirror. There was something almost aggressive in his gaze, like a sort of primal pride. He had put a child in her. He had done his husbandly duty to her. Now Dany would soon do her wifely duty to him.

"I don't know," Dany said with a soft shake of her head, still smiling.

"I think he will. He'll have plenty of dragon's blood."

By chance, Dany's eyes met Lucas's in the mirror. "Have you decided on a name?" she asked.

Lucas nodded. "Jacaerys. Jace for short. After my father."

"A good name," Dany said.

As soon as the words left her, the bedchamber door loudly burst open behind them. Dany jolted with fright. The baby kicked wildly inside her, seemingly spurred on by her fear. Dany and Lucas whipped their heads towards the door. The steward Tobas stood in the open doorway, looking harried. "My lord, my lady, forgive me if I'm interrupting," he said with a breathless swiftness.

"You're not," Lucas told him. "What's going on?"

"There are two men waiting in the parlor. They want to see you and Lady Daenerys. They're Westorosi, my lord. They're dressed in rags, but they have swords."

"Who did they ask for? 'Orello?'"

Orello was the pretend name that Lucas used everywhere in Volantis that was outside the safety and privacy of his manse. He was so fervent about it that he would drill Dany to ensure she never spoke his true name before they went out, few though those occasions were. Though Lucas wasn't half as paranoid as Viserys had been and held little fear for any hired knives of the Usurper, he still did not want it common knowledge where the rightful Lord of Driftmark and Princess of the Seven Kingdoms lived.

Tobas shook his head gravely. "They asked for 'Lord Lucas Velaryon,' my lord. Him and 'Princess Daenerys Targaryen.'"

Dany looked up at Lucas. His face had tightened. "Tell them we'll be there in a moment," he commanded.

"At once, my lord." With that, the steward bowed away and left.

Lucas turned Dany around, so that she faced him. "Listen to me, my love," he said steadily. "If someone draws steel, run back here and lock the door. Only open it if it's the voice of someone you know. Me or Tobas or one of the maids. Only us. No one else. Understand?"

"Yes," Dany said, nodding, paying close attention. It was always easy to follow Lucas's instructions, because they were always clear, concise, and gentle.

"If you run here and I don't return, it's a twenty foot drop out the window. Have one of the servants drop first, and then have them catch you. Guard your belly when you fall."

Dany frowned. "But the dragons ..."

"The crate can be dropped. The eggs have a cushion beneath them, the blankets. You can swaddle them in our bed furs too. They should be fine. Alright?"

Dany nodded again. "Alright. But what about you? I won't leave without you."

Lucas's gaze bore into her. "Yes you will, if you must. You're more important than me." He placed a hand against Dany's swollen belly. "And so is he."

Dany rose to her tiptoes, draped her arms around Lucas's neck, and captured his lips with her own. "I love you," she whispered to him between kisses.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

They broke their kiss and spent a moment gazing into each other's eyes. When they were prepared to face whatever lie ahead, they left their bedchamber and walked the halls towards the parlor.

We are the blood of the dragon, Dany thought as they walked.She chanted it in her mind again and again, but it was to little avail. She still found herself frustratingly nervous. She did not know how Lucas was so often so cool and calm. He had once told Dany that his father was much more steady and unshakable than him. If that was true, then the man must've been like a tall, silver-haired pillar of ice.

The parlor was a spacious chamber near the manse's entrance hall. Windows with their curtains pushed aside allowed the morning sun to bathe the room in its bright light. The parlor was furnished with various reclining chairs, padded couches, and small tables. Fur rugs dyed black warmed the floor and furniture, and sea green silks and tapestries lined the walls and the curtains. Dany found herself frightfully imagining those blacks and greens being stained red. She swiftly cleared those nightmarish thoughts from her mind.

Dany and Lucas entered the parlor cautiously, with Dany trailing just behind, peering over Lucas's shoulder. A few feet beside the doorway they entered from, Tobas stood by a table decorated with a solid wooden carving of a seahorse. Dany wondered if Tobas would wield the carving like a weapon should they be attacked. The steward was such a mild-mannered man, Dany found it hard to imagine him fighting. But she knew how loyal he was to her and Lucas. That loyalty would spur him.

At the far side of the parlor, two unfamiliar men stood. It seemed that they had elected not to sit as they waited. Dany was not sure if that was good or bad. They were tall, had fair complexions lightly browned by the sun, and wore plain-looking but frightening swords at their left hips. But that was the end of their similarities.

One was very old and had broad shoulders like a bull. His great, white beard was almost as long as his full head of white hair. His eyes were blue and somber, and his face was lined and weary. Despite his advanced age, he seemed to have all of his teeth. He wore a loose, tattered cloak with its hood pulled back that obscured the shape of his large frame.

The man beside him was far younger, looking only a few years older than Lucas. He was slim of frame, lanky and long. He had a thin face of a thin nose and thin lips, and his eyes were brown and sharp. His black, very long hair fell in ringlets to his shoulders and was shiny with grease and sweat, and his jaw was coated with a dark, rough stubble. He wore a stained, sleeveless vest that bore his slender arms, and a patchwork pair of trousers.

Dany held a protective arm across her belly as she looked upon the men. She'd sooner let her arm be maimed than let her baby be hurt.

"Who are you?" Lucas asked the men brusquely, watching them with wary eyes as he readied a hand on the hilt of his sword.

When both men started speaking at once, they stopped and fell silent.

Lucas nodded to the old man. "You first," he said.

"My name is Barristan Selmy, my lord," the old man said.

Dany looked to Lucas's face just in time to see his eyes widen and bulge. Dany had never seen him so shocked.

Lucas left her side and strode to the old man. Dany flushed with terror. She almost called out for her husband to return to her, but she stopped herself.

Lucas pushed the old man's tattered cloak from his shoulders. He wore only a ragged, sleeveless shirt beneath it. Dany was awestruck as she took in the sight of the old man's figure. He was incredibly robust. His shoulders and arms were swollen with muscles and lined with visible veins, and his upper chest was as broad as a barrel. The cloak had disguised his strength well. Dany had never seen a man so old look so strong.

Lucas's eyes traveled from the man's body to his face. "It's really you," he breathed. There was a look of boyish wonder in his eyes. "It's been so long since I've been to King's Landing, I almost couldn't recognize you. And you certainly hadn't had that beard."

"Who is he?" Dany asked.

"The greatest knight alive," Lucas told her. "Ser Barristan was Kingsguard to your family. He fought beside your brother Rhaegar in the rebellion." Then the wonder in Lucas's eyes abruptly weakened, and wariness returned to them. He backed away from the knight as his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword again. "But now he's Lord-Commander of the Usurper's Kingsguard," he added sharply. "He's his sworn sword."

"The Usurper is dead," the younger man beside the old knight said. "The fool was gored by a boar during a drunken hunt. Joffrey Baratheon is king now."

Lucas looked to him. "'Dead?'" he repeated.

"Dead." The man said it with such finality, it was as if the Usurper would never be spoken of again.

"And who ... are you?" Lucas asked slowly.

"What, you don't recognize me either?" the younger man asked with a smirk, feigning outrage. "Though I suppose I'm a much different sight from when we were both little shits running around castles."

Lucas squinted at the man for a moment. Then his eyes snapped open, and he bared a big grin. "Colton!" he whooped. Lucas went to the man and collided into him as they embraced each other in a tight hug. They laughed together and patted each other's backs. Their joy was infectious, and Dany could not help but smile as she watched them embrace. She released the last of the fear she had been holding. It seemed that they were not being attacked by assassins after all.

When Lucas broke the hug and pulled away, he explained to Dany, "This is Colton Rykker, Lord of Duskendale."

Dany called to mind the old map of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros that Lucas had helped her pour over as he taught her about the various lands and their various lords. Learning the kingdoms and their wardens was an easy task. Learning the numerous cities and the numerous lesser houses that resided in them was far more difficult. But Dany remembered Duskendale. It was a city on the coast of the crownlands. Driftmark, the island where Lucas was born, was in Blackwater Bay in the crownlands. One city was only a short sail from the other.