Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/12231024. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: F/M, F/F, Multi, Other Fandom: Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin Relationship: Myrcella_Baratheon/Jon_Snow, Lyanna_Stark/Rhaegar_Targaryen, Elia Martell/Rhaegar_Targaryen, Elia_Martell/Lyanna_Stark/Rhaegar_Targaryen, Jon_Snow/surprise_to_be_added, Jon_Snow/Rhaenys_Targaryen Character: Jon_Snow, Jon_Snow_|_Aegon_Targaryen, Myrcella_Baratheon, Cersei Lannister, Lyanna_Stark, Aegon_VI_Targaryen, Rhaegar_Targaryen, Tommen Baratheon, Tywin_Lannister, Rhaenys_Targaryen, Daenerys_Targaryen Additional Tags: Love, Marriage, Arranged_Marriage, Alternate_Universe_-_Rhaegar_won, Rhaegar_Lives, Jon_Snow_is_a_Targaryen, Jon_Snow_knows_nothing, Cunnilingus, Blow_Jobs, Period-Typical_Sexism, Underage_Sex, Period- Typical_Underage, Betrayal, Falling_In_Love, Facials, Anal_Sex, Domestic Fluff, Maledom, Femdom, Sex_Addiction, Rough_Sex, Pregnancy, Alternate Universe_-_Teenagers, Horny_Teenagers, Crownlands_-_Freeform, Iron_Throne -_Freeform, Porn, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Porn_With_Plot, Smut, Wincest_-_Freeform, Crack, R_plus_L_equals_J Stats: Published: 2017-10-01 Updated: 2017-11-15 Chapters: 3/? Words: 9947 ****** Redden My Rose ****** by Daemon_Belaerys Summary Myrcella Lannister is wed to Prince Daemon (Jon) Targaryen. The young couple quickly take to liking to each other, much to the joy of some ambitious lions. Or, Jon is called Daemon, and he and Myrcella fall in love and have awesome sex all the time. It's basically porn. Notes See the end of the work for notes ***** Myrcella Otherwise ***** Tywin   Damn him, the inbred fool, Tywin thought furiously where he sat behind his former desk in the office of the Hand. Ever since he had arrived with the might of the Westerlands to aid Rhaegar on the Trident he’d done the best he could to help the Targaryens once more. His arrival had seen the defeat of the rebels. And was it not he who arranged for Aerys’ ‘accident’? The least Rhaegar could do was to name him Hand. For eight and ten years since the Rebellion he had served loyally and ably, and yet when he asked Rhaegar for his eldest son Aegon to take his grand daughter Myrcella to wife, he was refused.    “I cannot have Aegon wed the grand daughter of a loyal bannerman when there are other Lords out there with daughters who are far more reluctant to serve my family,’ Rhaegar had told him, and in front of the entire court no less.   It was at that moment Tywin decided, yet again, to resign from his position as Hand of the King. He walked straight to his solar to write his resignation. The fury and humiliation he had felt in that moment was so strong that he had almost been tempted to order Clegane to have Rhaegar’s head off and be done with it.   All his life Tywin had nursed the ambition of having his own flesh and blood on the Iron Throne, but Aerys, the mad fool, and now his soft hearted son, had both refused him. First Rhaegar wed that simpering weak Dornish Princess instead of Cersei. A few years later he was refused yet again when Aerys refused a match between Cersei and Viserys, and now Myrcella had been refused too.   Why? he wondered. Had the realm not seen near four decades of peace and prosperity in total under his guidance as Hand? It was not as if would be a great chore for Prince Aegon to wed Myrcella. His grand daughter was young and fertile having just seen her four and tenth nameday and her beauty surpassed even that of her mother at that age. And unlike her mother she knew her place, and was kinder beside.   Oh how Tywin had struggled with Cersei. The fuss she put up when he told her that she would wed her cousin Daven had been so great that eventually he’d had to threaten to send her to the silent sisters. She did obey him at the very least, and seemed to have finally accepted her place in the family, having borne three children.  Myrcella and little Tommen, and of course her eldest Joffrey, now deceased. Joffrey, now there was a disaster. Never had Tywin thought that he would despise a member of his family more than Tyrion but Joffrey somehow managed it. At least the fool was dead before he could bring more shame upon House Lannister, having been stabbed to death after murdering five whores with a crossbow when visiting a brothel of all places... why oh why was he cursed with such an abundance of fools in his family, he would never know. It couldn't be the gods' revenge for House Reyne, could it?   A knock on his door, and an inviting King's guard, revealed his daughter. “You sent for me father,” Cersei said as she crossed the room and seated herself before his desk, filling a cup of wine for herself.   “Yes,” he said. “No doubt you’ve heard how the King refused my request to have Prince Aegon wed Myrcella.”   “Arrogant fool. Where does he get off, turning their nose up at the Lion?” Cersei spat. She had been quite enamored by the idea of having her daughter wed the Prince, so in this case they were on the same side.   “In many ways Rhaegar is his father’s son,” Tywin admitted. “But all is not yet lost. There is one last trick to play.”   Cersei smirked, “What are you thinking of father.”   “The Prince," Tywin explained, "for all that he seems eager to live up to his namesake; the Unworthy kind.”   Cersei’s eyes were confused. “Where are you going with this?”   Tywin smiled coldly. “Myrcella is beautiful, and for all that the Prince tries to play off as honourable and just, he is still a man. Pycelle informs me that he takes many women to bed, with no hope to marry them. We can use this. Talk to Myrcella. She must get the Prince into her bed, he’ll not refuse her.”   “NO!” Cersei screamed. “I’ll not have my daughter turn herself into a whore.”   “You’ll have her do her part for the family,” Tywin said coldly. “If the Prince takes her to bed, all we need is to catch them in the act. Rhaegar’s son will have dishonoured my granddaughter, so Rhaegar will have no option but to wed the two of them. His strongest bannermen are the Westerners; he cannot humiliate them.”   “But...” Cersei paused, she was torn between wanting the Prince for her daughter and for her daughter to not lower herself for the vague chance of Rhaegar doing the right thing. “What guarantee do we have?”   Tywin paused. "It cannot be revealed straight away. Let Myrcella warm his bed for a few weeks, a single night of indiscretion could be disproven. He's known to end his affairs quickly and discreetly, but an affair spanning weeks would be much harder."   “And then?” Cersei asked.   “We’ll give them time, a few moons or even a year and then the King and his youngest will tragically perish,” Tywin explained.   “How?” Cersei whispered.   “There are several options,” Tywin admitted. “Poison, falling from a horse, or even a shipwreck. The King and Prince Daemon make it a point to visit Dragonstone every year. A few trusted men could easily ensure the ship goes down.”   Cersei grinned wickedly. “I’ll go speak with Myrcella then, by your leave father.”   Tywin waved her off and leant back in his chair while rubbing his hands. The Targaryens had insulted him one time too many, and soon enough they would know just how sharp the Lion’s claws truly were...   Cersei My father's a controlling bastard, but he wants to give my daughter everything. She deserves everything. But he's obsessed with the bloody dragons, and kept her from the crown thereby. He has failed. So I will give her a crown. I am the only one to see how.   Since Cersei had taken up residence at the Red Keep with her father, she was glad. She got away from her fuckwit of a husband, the now acting lord of Casterly Rock, and she could spend her nights with Jaime. The few instances she went to the West had been enough to convince everyone that her children were Daven's, and not Jaime's. The dumb, pretty King's guard no doubt would disagree with her methods, so she knew not to tell him. He could just guard the Princesses tonight. She also wouldn't tell her father of her new plan, for she knew he would not see its genius. He had tried to get Myrcella to marry Aegon or Viserys for years, all while ignoring the very obvious option in front of him. Cersei went to her daughter's room, and entered without a knock. She was changing into a new dress, to ready for the night's feast. "Mother!" Myrcella yelled, "Please knock." "Calm down, child," Cersei said, "I'm your mother. You have no privacy around me." Myrcella pouted and continued changing. Cersei noticed how her daughter had become a young woman, her chest filled out finally and body more suited for a partner's touch. She was ready. Then Cersei noticed her daughter's little pouty lips and innocent face, along with her soft blonde ringlets. Any man would kill to fuck her, and Cersei knew a prince was hardly above any man. This would be easy, especially with what she taught Myrcella. "Myrcella," Cersei said, sitting on her daughter's bed, "It is time you married." Myrcella immediately turned around, excited, but noticeably afraid.  "Has grandfather decided?" Myrcella said excitedly, "Will I marry Aegon? Viserys? Ser Garlan?" Cersei had trained her daughter in many things. Like all noble girls, she was raised to love the idea of marriage, especially to a prince. She also learned the ways to gain and maintain a marriage, though Cersei avoided the maintaining herself.  "Neither," Cersei explained, "You will marry Prince Daemon Targaryen." "Daemon?" Myrcella asked, "The northern-blooded." Her father had filled Myrcella's mind with so much disregard for all the Lyanna did to her, that he forgot that the younger prince was an option.  "Yes," Cersei explained, "He's an honorable man, a fine swordsman, and he will be kind to you." "I would not be a queen," Myrcella said confusedly. "You'll be a princess," Cersei said. It was better not to tell her about how Aegon and Rhaegar would later be killed. "I-I um," Myrcella said, "I've seen him. He seems kind." Then her face became determined. She no doubt weighed her options, and saw the benefits in it. "He'll be a fine match; an honorable northman; he may even be Hand one day." "Good, my dear," Cersei said. "When shall we wed?" Myrcella asked. "We cannot say; you are not bethrothed," Cersei said. "I am not?" Myrcella asked again. "No," Cersei explained, "You must seduce him." Myrcella looked down at her mother. She was beautiful. Cersei remembered trying to seduce Rhaegar at Harrenhal; she was a young girl, and he a grown man. He almost relented and took her, but the bitch Lyanna took him first. This time, though, there would be no other girl; Cersei would ensure it. Myrcella, like herself, would be ready to tempt a prince. Years of suggestion and training would at last be useful. "I know you must have preferred not to," Cersei said, "But you can nonetheless. At the dinner tonight. Speak to him, charm him, dance with him, and take him to bed tonight." "Tonight?" Myrcella asked. "A challenge, I'm sure," Cersei said, "But you're a lioness. You shall always succeed."   Myrcella  Myrcella changed into another dress since her mother left. She had a new mission. No longer would she try to enrapture Aegon with her pretty bats of her eyelashes. Her goal was now Daemon Targaryen. Her grandfather rarely spoke of the northern prince, other than calling him "the youngest" or the "northern-blood." It was likely because he resented Queen Lyanna, whom he called the King's "other plaything." Whether Tywin knew that his once four year old granddaughter actually understood him, she never knew. But the black-haired prince had ever been an important part of the court; he was quiet mostly, often deferring to his brother, but he always seemed kind. He was larger than Aegon, who reminded her of Daeron the Good. Thinking about Daemon now, made her think of the Dragonknight, or Maekar.  In all of her fantasies, in which she touched herself at night, she rarely thought of Aegon. It was usually Loras Tyrell. But thinking about Daemon, his built chest, Myrcella wondered if her soon-to-be bethrothed could excite her so. Myrcella dressed in her favorite dress, a long white silk that hugged her body, and accentuated her new breasts. Her mother constantly contemplated ways of seducing prince Aegon, and at last those methods would be used, but on the other brother. But Myrcella was a dutiful daughter, and she knew a lesser prince would be good as well. She'd do her duty, and catch a prince. Myrcella looked at herself in the mirror, moved her hair a bit, and put on light eye make up. She would appear older, and more beautiful. She applied some perfume, and spun around.  Seduce. I need to seduce him. Then Myrcella got an idea, and she smiled. Then she reached under her dress.   "Would you care to dance, my Prince?" Myrcella asked Daemon. He was sitting, and looked confused. Women rarely asked for such things, but her mother taught her that men appreciated girls who were different. "Aye," Daemon said, and he took Myrcella's hand. Myrcella took him to the dance hall, in which many lords and ladies danced. Myrcella looked up at her prince. He was a head and a half taller than her, and looked confused. She smiled, and put his hand on her hip. "Let's dance," she said. They started swaying, and Daemon soon started leading. "I must admit, Lady Myrcella," Daemon said, "I didn't expect this. We hardly know each other." "But we know of each other," Myrcella replied, "I know you're the prince, a great warrior, but always avoids dancing." "Quite a summary of my life," Daemon smirked. "Well I know of you as well." "What do you know of me?" Myrcella asked. "I know you're a Lannister, the Hand's granddaughter," Daemon said, "I thought you'd be Aegon's bride one day, if I'm to be honest." "I am more interested in other princes," Myrcella replied. Daemon smiled, obviously surprised at her boldness. "Is that so?" Daemon asked. "You must know I've had thousands of women, ladies and low-born alike, try to get in my bed."   Daemon Holding the young girl in his arms was heavenly. She was certainly interested in being his wife, as all the others were. But he would entertain her. It could be fun. "I'm not trying to get into your bed," Myrcella said, swaying closer to him, "I only wished to speak to my Prince." Daemon looked down at her; she was the maiden come alive. He knew of Myrcella; he had seen her and her mother for so long. They say Myrcella looked like Cersei at her age. Cersei, then, must have caused many a man to lose their hands to win her favor. Daemon thought to himself. I can take her to my bed, just once. "Well-" he started, eagerly going to pull her closer. "Never mind," Myrcella replied, carelessly walking away, "I don't want my prince to doubt my intentions." Daemon saw her little arse sway as she walked away, and felt his cock stiffen. "Wait!" Daemon called out, "Lady Myrcella,  I did not mean to suggest." Myrcella looked back at him and stopped and looked back, then walked up to him.  "Come," she said, "Let's talk at the tables." Daemon immediately followed and they found themselves at the tables. They talked and talked, about their lives, and their goals. She was clever, humorous, and even better, she pretended to laugh at his jokes. "And what did Ser Loras do?" Myrcella asked. "He fell from his bloody horse; he had the thing in heat and the horses mated in front of everyone," Daemon explained. Myrcella giggled cutely and Daemon laughed. "The things men will do to win a tourney," Myrcella said. "Aye, it's a thing of honour," Daemon said. "Is it honorable to have a lady on your lap, when she's not your wife?" Myrcella said. Daemon was confused until he looked down. She had crawled onto him throughout the conversation, and he didn't notice. "Forgive me, my lady," he said, moving her off. "It's perfectly alright," Myrcella said, "And call me Myrcella." "Myrcella," Daemon repeated. "Tell me this about yourself? Why aren't you married, or bethrothed? Many women are by your age." "Ooh my prince," she said, "You speak of scandal. I believe they are afraid I'll eat them." Daemon laughed. "Eat them? Cannibal, are you?"  "No," she laughed, "They just fear lions. Powerful creatures, they are." "And dragons, Myrcella?" Daemon said, "Could you eat them?" "Well, I don't have a gag reflex," Myrcella whispered. The breeze stopped and Daemon looked at Myrcella. She looked and acted half like a girl and half like the dirtiest whore. He didn't believe that she didn't have thousands of betrothals. The dinner party had left, and only he and Myrcella remained in the room. Daemon smiled. "Allow me to play you a piece," Daemon said, pulling out his flute. His father had taught him many things, from the sword to delegating, but skills in music were the most useful around women. Daemon played his tune, a rendition of the Dornishmen's Wife, and Myrcella clapped. "I loved it," she said with a smile. "Here, allow me to play Jenny's Song," Daemon said. "It's fine. I don't want your mouth to dry, my prince," Myrcella said. "Worry not," Daemon said with a smirk, "My tongue can go for hours." Myrcella's face reddened and Daemon played his songs. At last he realized it was late in the night. He kept looking at Myrcella, how her golden hair shined in the moonlight. He wasn't sure who started moving in first, but nevertheless they found themselves kissing. Her lips tasted like wine from the gods. When he pulled away, she looked so cute and embarrassed. He was rock hard. Daemon huffed and knew he had to end it. He stood up quickly. "I'm afraid we'll have to end this, my La-" he started when he heard a rip. Daemon looked down and saw Myrcella had a rip in her dress. Somehow the bottom of her dress had itself attached to his breeches and ripped it. Myrcella squealed and stood up. She turned around and pulled off the rip, and her long dress was made a short one, and he could see her thighs. "I-I didn't mean," he said. "It's fine," Myrcella said, "You can go, my lord." She looked upset. Daemon was sad to leave but walked away, embarrassed and hard. Then she spoke again. "My prince," Myrcella said sultrily, "Don't you want to make it up to me?" He turned and saw Myrcella with her hands against a pillar, sticking her dress riding up, and he could see her womanhood glistening oh so sweetly. She wasn't wearing any smallclothes. He paused, and Myrcella swayed her body, and he was drawn to her. Daemon held her against the pillar and looked around. No one could see them. Without a second thought he felt down her petite body, and she moaned all the while. Daemon reached down and stroked her womanhood. She was soaking wet. "Ugh," she moaned, "Right there." Daemon played with her cunt, and started fingering her, obsessed with the noises she made. Out of nowhere, she turned around. She looked scared and desperate. "My bed or yours?" she asked. "I-yours; they'll be less guards," Daemon said. Myrcella took his hand and ran them quiet to her room. She pushed him on the bed and undressed in front of him. He looked up at her and admired her body, her small tits and at last her perfect little arse. His cock was straining. So he damn near ripped off his clothes. "We must make this fast," Myrcella said, as Daemon held her naked body and her arse. He agreed and she jumped on top of him. She humped him continuously until he was had as steel, then she held his cock with her petite hand, looking up in his eyes with an innocent look. She kissed the head and his cock twitched. The she got up and put it inside her. Myrcella moaned and groaned, and Jon held her fiercely. She was in pain and pleasure, and so, so wet. After seconds she began riding him slowly. Jon grabbed her arse and helped her, and soon she was fully riding him. It was better than any other time he could imagine.   Tywin  The Hand of the King, or soon-to-be-resigned Hand, walked to his quarters. The king would relieve him in the morrow for his endless denials. If Myrcella managed to rope the crown prince in after months, he might come back. But until then- "Fuck," he heard a grunt. It was a man's, in the Lannister's quarters. Tywin continued walking to the origin of the moaning in hopes of punishing someone. There he saw that the door to his grand daughter's bedchamber was half-open. Inside was Myrcella, her breasts held by a man with dark hair, as she bounced up and down on an erect manhood, her eyes closed and whimpering "Fuck me, fuck me". The man was Daemon Targaryen. Tywin was haunted by the image and walked away. This wasn't what he intended, but his mind moved too quickly. He already knew why Cersei had put her up to this. This can work.     "Ahhh!" was what a maid screamed the next morning. Tywin planned for it. Myrcella and Daemon would be caught by all, and he knew what to do next. Afterwards, in the morning, the rumor had spread throughout King's Landing. Tywin burned his resignation letter, and walked straight to the thone room. "This is unacceptable!" He affirmed before King Rhaegar. "My granddaughter, sullied by a prince, her maidenhead taken, humiliated." "Lord Tywin," Rhaegar said, "I mean to correct for this so that she be honored." "Then honor her!" Tywin demanded. It was inappropriate to raise his voice to the king, but Rhaegar would be called another Aerys if he punished a caring guardian for acting so. "I demand that Prince Daemon marry her." Rhaegar paused and thought. " Queen Lyanna will no doubt desire to speak on this subject, but she has gone for a fortnight. So it will be done," he said, "They shall marry. "   Daemon  Staying the night was not the plan. Being caught was not the plan. Being betrothed was certainly not the plan. Daemon was in his room, trying to think of what to do. Then  Myrcella entered without a knock. She was just as beautiful, and she smiled nervously. "So we marry," she said. "You tricked me," Daemon said. "I did not," she said, "Unless you were not the one who agreed to go again for third time." Then she leaned against his door. "But this will be good, my prince. I do like you. And I can be a good wife. I know my role is to be obedient, and serve you in every way I can." Then she smiled. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" He knew he was originally to be married soon, after his mother arrived. And he had been nervous about it, as he did not know who the girl could be. Would it be a septa-like woman, a cruel bitch, or someone sweet? Aegon had certainly warned him about the type of women highborn ladies could be. Daemon looked up and down his new wife. She was gorgeous, reckless, and she smiled so cheekily. She had long blonde hair in the softest ringlets and her cheeks demanded to be cupped in his hands.  This could work.  ***** The other woman. ***** Chapter Summary Not everyone is pleased at Daemon's betrothal. Rhaenys: Rhaenys was pacing in her rooms. She was angry, no scratch that, she was furious. She had arrived back from Dorne the night before, eager to tell her brother Daemon just why she had cut her visit short by three moons. Her mother had been overjoyed to find her returned to the Red Keep, as had her father for that matter, though she couldn’t care less about him, not since he had tried to wed her off to Willas Tyrell. Her anger abated slightly as a smirk crossed her face when she thought about that incident. Father had informed her on her six and tenth nameday that she would wed Willas two years later upon her eight and tenth nameday. For two whole damn years she had pleaded, protested, cajoled and threatened but to no avail. Her father, living in his own world of dreams must have thought her a mummer for all he listened to her threats, it wasn’t until she stood opposite Willas in the Sept of Baelor and loudly answered ‘NO’ when asked if she would take him as her husband that father must have realized just how serious Rhaenys was. The ensuing scandal had been awful for her father that was. Rhaenys hadn’t given a fuck, and had gladly laughed along with Daemon as they watched father try to salvage the situation with the offended Reach Lords. Three more times he had attempted to wed her away only to be met with the same refusal, so in the end he had given up and left her to her own devices. She was officially ‘cut off’ as the saying went, but as long as she had Daemon in the palm of her hand there was no worry. She and Daemon had first fucked when he was four and ten, and they’d kept their affair hidden ever since. They had both fantasized about following in the footsteps of their ancestors and marry one day as proper brothers and sisters of valyrian blood should, but father had quashed that dream in its infancy. ‘I seek an end to brother fornicating with sister’ he had said. ‘A vile and disgusting practice, I’ll hear no more of it’ Rhaenys giggled,‘if you only knew father dear,’she thought, before frowning. She didn’t blame her brother, not exactly at any rate. She knew he had taken other women to his bed before, just as she herself had taken the odd lover now and then, and if Rhaenys could’ve taken Myrcella Lannister to bed she’d done it in a heartbeat. It mattered little, but now he’d been foolish enough to get caught, and with a noblewoman of all things, and as such was now to wed the delicate lion bitch.‘You’re mine brother,’she thought angrily. Rhaenys had been Daemon’s first, his first everything actually, and the thought of the Lannister cunt forever holding a claim on what rightfully belonged to Rhaenys was agonizing. Rhaenys let her hand caress her belly, smiling at the small bulge underneath her hands. None knew as of yet, other than Arianne that is. It was Ari who’d first noticed when she was visiting in Dorne. It would’ve been hard not to notice considering Ari’s face was between her legs at the time, and a quick trip to a woman knowledgeable in such matters confirmed that Rhaenys was with child, at least the woman was discrete, having dealt with Arianne twice in similar situations, though Ari had chosen moontea rather than birth a bastard. Not Rhaenys though. She had always been been a girl who did as she wished, making her father despair as she rode around on horseback or practicing archery or a spear. It did not help that mother, both her mothers encouraged her pursuits, though Lyanna was somewhat hesitant at the dresses Rhaenys chose to wear. For all that Rhaenys enjoyed archery, or fighting with a spear she enjoyed making people blush even more. Which was why she wore dornish dresses as often as possible. Nothing pleased her more than to show off her body, all smooth and lightly muscled from her long hours in the training yard, at times her dresses were of silk so sheer that any man or woman could see whether she was shaved or not between her legs. Not so now though. She didn’t truly care if anyone knew of she was with child or not, none would ever know who the father was anyway, but she wanted Daemon to be the first to know, which was why she was actually covered up in more clothes than she had worn for years. “Princess”, Ser Arthur’s voice called her through the door. “Prince Daemon said he can see you now.” ‘Finally,’ she thought as she walked quickly towards Daemon’s rooms. As had been Daemon’s fashion for near four years now, his doors were guarded, not by a Kingsguard or household guard, but rather a giant white direwolf, near the size of a horse these days. “Hi Ghost,” Rhaenys cooed as she rubbed his big head, the giant wolf panting happily at her experienced hands before lowering his head to sniff at and lick her belly. “That’s right” she whispered, “I’ll have a little dragonpup for myself soon.” Ghost closed his eyes in pleasure as Rhaenys found just the right spot behind his ears and swiftly sank into a large helpless ball of white fur. “Make sure no one disturbs us,” Rhaenys muttered to the wolf before opening the door. She swiftly locked and barred the door behind her before marching into Daemon’s bedchambers where she found him seated in a chair by his table, clad only in a pair of loose trousers. Rhaenys unconsciously licked her lips as she let her eyes rove across his half nude form. His thick arms and barreled chest never ceased to make her cunt wet in anticipation. His long dark curls that she just loved to rake her hands through, and then, there was that fucking smirk on his face that never failed to make her act as his wanton whore. “Sister,” he grinned, taking a slow sip from his goblet as if nothing was wrong in the world. “How delightful it is to see you again.” Daemon: Daemon sighed with content as he leaned back in his favourite chair with a glass of wine near his hand on the table. ‘amazing how much simpler the world seems after a good tumble,’he thought happily. His future wife had just left his chambers to return to her own rooms in the Tower of the Hand, but not before getting on her knees to suck his cock, and what a job she had done. While the hot little mouth of his oldest sister Rhaenys was by far the best mouth ever to have graced his cock, Cella’s wasn’t far behind, which was saying something considering how Cella was but four and ten while Rhaenys was one and twenty, which boded well for his and Cella’s future life in the marriage bed, and if he ever found out who had taught Cella to suck cock he’d reward the woman, or man with their weight in gold. And now he was waiting for Rhaenys. To speak the truth he was surprised she hadn’t pounded down his door already. Rhaenys had never been good at sharing her favourite things, and though she knew or suspected that he had brought other women to his bed he never let her know who, the one time she did find out she had the poor woman arrested on fraudulent charges and sent to work off her debts to a brothel owned by their uncle Viserys. No, Rhaenys would not be pleased, Daemon knew this, he wasn’t entirely pleased either. He knew that Cella had intentionally trapped him in this situation, but then again, she was bringing the support of the Westerlands with her, and regardless of how much Daemon loved Rhaenys, he knew that they could never wed. Father would not let them due to his own views on Targaryen traditions of brother and sister fornicating, and Aegon would not allow it either when he became King, though that was more due to the fact that he wanted Rhaenys for himself, or had wanted her at one point at least, but she’d spurned his advances, and ever since the two of them had only given each other cold acknowledgments whenever they had to spend time in the same room, speaking neither good or ill to each other, and usually sharing only a 'good day’ or ‘farewell’ to each other, the less words the better. No, Daemon realized that this was the best. Rhaenys would never wed, the scandal with Willas Tyrell had made that obvious, but she could still stay with Daemon. Father had spoken of offering him Duskendale and the Dun Fort as his seat ever since the spring sickness three years past took all the Rykkers, and if Daemon offered to let Rhaenys stay with him for long periods of time, father would not refuse. He’d probably be pleased to have her away from court actually, less gossip that way. Still, he knew that Rhaenys would probably come knocking on his door soon, and he’d better have a good explanation to placate her. The best thing he could come up with was that the two of them could work together to let Cella know what a 'bad girl' she'd been to intentionally trap him in marriage. Daemon could feel his cock hardening at the mere thought of it, and Rhaenys would probably enjoy a nice young and blonde plaything to break in, the fact that she despised Cersei and now had a chance to make a ‘whore’ of her daughter would probably make his sweet sister wet as a bitch in heat. It was at that point that Rhaenys entered. “Sister,” he said as he picked up his goblet and took a long sip of dornish red, something he always enjoyed when Rhaenys was away. “How delightful it is to see you again.” "How did you caught in this?!" she yelled, "The Lannister bitch in your bed, and now you're betrothed to her?!" "It was not my intention to find a betrothal but nevertheless it happened," Daemon said, to which Rhaenys looked like she was about to yell. "You know I've had wenches in my bed before, just as I know you have. Besides, I was going to be married anyway once my mother arrived." "Lyanna won't want you to marry the lion bitch," Rhaenys said. She was always quick to jealousy. His mother likely couldn't stop him from marrying, and if anything would be reluctant to have him marry at all. "Rhae," Daemon said, "Myrcella is actually very sweet." "You liked her little cunt, that's all," Rhaenys proclaimed, "Just see. I'll have her sent to a Lysene pleasure house." Daemon lost his smile. "Rhae, sit on my lap," he ordered her. "No!" Rhaenys said, "My little brother is bethrothed to a little bitch and I won't allow it." "Rhaenys!" Daemon yelled, "Sit." He pointed to his lap. Slowly, Rhaenys pouted and walked to his lap and sat down on his lap. Daemon wrapped his arms around her as she moaned unhappily and turned her head. He touched her cheek and kissed her lips. Then he felt her bare waist and let her relax. "I still love you. But you know I was going to be married. If father finds another child denying a bethrothal he'll lose his mind." "Daemon, I'm with child," she said, and Daemon was still. "It's yours." Daemon looked at her and couldn't help but kiss her deeply. He felt her stomach and admired her. She was beautiful. He was about to speak, but she felt up his body and kissed him harder. She rubbed her ass against his crotch and turned around, wrapping her legs around his torso. Daemon picked her up and they fell against his bed. He was getting her dress off when she reached down his smallclothes and felt his cock. She stopped. "She sucked your cock right now, didn't she?" Rhaenys asked. "Rhae," Daemon started. "I wager I'm better than her," Rhaenys stated and she turned him and descended down his body. Daemon looked down at her, as Rhaenys pulled off her loose straps and her massive breasts fell out. "Lay back, little brother, let big sis take care of you." Daemon laid his head back and smiled. She was jealous, yes, but even more confident in her "abilities." Rhaenys licked his cock and it stiffened in her hands. She moaned as Daemon put his hands behind his head. Then she suddenly stopped and Daemon looked up at her confident smile. "Aye, I reckon I'm better," she smirked. She then laid by his side. They stayed there, half dressed and hugging. "Father will give me Duskendale," Daemon said, "Come with us. You can have our child near each other. Besides, Myrcella needs someone to punish her, for seducing me." Rhaenys smiled evilly, and cuddled into him. "And we can fuck as much as we want, with no one to stop us," Rhaenys said. She kissed him and grabbed his hands, and put them on her ass. "Worry not, I'll punish your little wife. But you have to help too. I imagine you haven't destroyed her little ass yet." Daemon groaned, the mere thought of watching Cella’s no doubt tight and innocent arse stretching around his cock was maddening. “I’ll have her arse soon enough sister dear,” he purred in her ear, holding back a grin as she shivered. “Perhaps I’ll make use of your tongue first hmm? Make her good and ready for me.” Rhaenys snorted, “If you think I’ll have my tongue anywhere near that little bitch’s arse think again brother.” Now it was Daemon’s turn to snort, and then he sat up and lifted a protesting Rhaenys out of the bed and waggled his eyebrows as he pushed her shoulders lightly. Rhaenys rolled her eyes playfully, knowing full well what he wanted, but since it was what she wanted as well she teasingly fell to her knees and grabbed hold of his cock and held it teasingly against her lips for a moment before putting the head inside her warm, wet mouth. “Fuck,” Daemon moaned as he fisted his hands in Rhaenys’ long black tresses. “You really are the best at this sister.” Rhaenys looked ridiculous as she tried to grin while having her lips around his cock, not that Daemon could say anything as she took a deep breath and swallowed him to the root. “Seven hells,” he breathed as he gripped her hair tighter and started to move her head up and down on his cock, marveling at the way her throat massaged and constricted along his length, and how her tongue stroked him back and forth as she gagged and slurped on his cock. A victorious glint appeared in her eyes as she felt him come closer to the edge, she’d certainly swallowed his cock enough times to recognize the signs, such as how his legs seized up or how his eyes closed while his mouth was slightly open. Eagerly she sucked harder but Daemon wasn’t about to let her have her prize this time. Moments before he lost all control he roughly pulled her head back with his left hand, yanking back on her hair to the point that she let out small innocent whimpers of pain while his right hand took up his cock and started to jerk it quickly. “FUCK,” he yelled as the first strings of white pearly seed erupted over her face, five more jets followed, each dollop landing on her face, hair or chest. “Daemon,” Rhaenys whined, cheated out of her prize. “Aww, did my sweet sister not get what she wanted?” he asked, grinning as Rhaenys nodded eagerly with a wounded look upon her cum stained face, almost like a young child who had been denied a third helping of cake. “Come here,” he cooed comfortingly as he patted the bed, watching with hungry eyes as his lovely sister crept sinfully onto the bed and laid down with spread legs. Daemon sucked in a deep breath as he watched the lips of her womanhood. Pink and glistening with arousal. Despite wanting nothing more than to dive in and drink deep of her nectar he had to make a point this time. Rhaenys was his, and she was not the one who decided what Daemon would or would not do with his wife, or what her role would be in their bed for that matter.” “Turn around sister dear,” Daemon sang to her, enjoying how her eyes widened momentarily as she realized what he wanted. “Daemon,” she whimpered, “Please brother, not… not there,” ‘Ahh, the innocent maid,’ Daemon thought. It had been far too long since they’d played that little game, Rhaenys much preferring the servant wench who’d been caught stealing, or the warrior princess enjoying the fruits of victory. “You’ll shut up and take it you little bitch,” he growled as he re positioned her onto her hands and knees, “And you’ll damn well like it too,” he spread her knees so that she was just the right height. His cock almost jumped once he spread her cheeks and watched the pink little rosebud of her arse, already wet from the juices that had trickled down from her cunt and trembling in anticipation. “Please m’lord,” she mumbled, “I’ll do anyfing, I swears, just don’t put it there.” Daemon grinned, he always enjoyed their little games. “Anything ?” he whispered in her ears. She nodded eagerly and Daemon positioned the crown of his cock at her entrance. “Then bite the pillow, girl,” and then he pushed in hard. Both of them moaned loudly as the feeling of his cock pushing through Rhaenys’ arse. It was so incredibly tight and warm. "P-please m'lord, iz too big, I can't take it" Rhaenys moaned, "Put it somewhere else." "Ha, little rebellious girl turns into a slut when she's bent over and naked. Not talking about being strong as any man now, are you? Well, I'm a high lord, I get to fuck lowborn wenches like you however and whenever I want," Daemon groaned. Once he had impaled her to the root he held his still, just staying inside her as her inner muscles constricted around him. “Fuck… me… brother,” she bit out, her breathing deep and heavy. "Deeper." Daemon grit his teeth as he slowly withdrew his cock until only the head was left inside her tight arse before thrusting back in again, feeling his cock harden even further at the sultry moan Rhaenys released at having her arse filled up again. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster his cock drove into her. “What a little whore you are” he groaned as he put a hand on her back and pushed her face into the pillows. “Moaning like a two copper whore while your own little brother fills your arse with his cock.” “Only your whore,” she cried, “only your cock has felt my arse.” “As it should be sister,” he said as his left hand suddenly delivered a hard slap on her arse cheek, causing her arse to contract even harder around his cock. It proved to be his undoing as his balls suddenly contracted, sending several spurts of warm cum into his beloved sister’s behind. Only instinct stopped him from collapsing on top of his sister, which he was quite glad for, he had no desire to harm their unborn babe. Sprawled out on his back he could only watch with awe and desire as his sister leaned over and started to place soft, loving kisses on his cock, not at all caring that it had been in her arse mere moments earlier. The sight of her cum stained face as well as the teasing kisses she placed on his cock soon had it start to rise slowly, too slowly for his sister it seemed as she swiftly enclosed it in her mouth once more. He winced slightly, sensitive as he was, the feel of her tongue eagerly lapping up the remnants of his seed was almost torture, but oh how sweet the torture was. Once he had returned to full hardness, Rhaenys made a show of slowly wiping the cum off her face with a slender finger, eagerly swallowing it until her face was clean. She took a brief moment to drink a cup of water to clean out her mouth before mounting him. With a leg on either side of his waist she placed his cock at her entrance and slowly sank down. He watched with smoldering eyes as she bit her lip and closed her eyes in rapture as his cock slowly spread her walls. Whereas before it had been raw fucking, like the dragons they claimed to be, this was slow, passionate, an expression of the love they held for eachother, and though they both loved rough hard fucking there was something truly special when they took their time and just enjoyed the moment. Rhaenys bent over to kiss him, her tongue asking entrance into his mouth, entrance he was more than happy to give. Embracing her in his arms he turned them over so that she lay beneath him and he picked up a comfortable pace, his cock sliding in and out of her flower. He lost count of time as he fucked her slowly, his dark eyes boring into her own. “I love you sweet sister,” he murmured as he placed a soft kiss on her lips. Rhaenys’ eyes glistened in the damp light of his room, the passion from before replaced with a love that was only theirs, a love that, no matter how wrong to everyone else was just right for them. “You’re such a lecher little brother,” Rhaenys said with a sudden giggle, laughter dancing in her shining brown eyes. “You’ve a pretty little wife all lined up to be wed, and yet here you are, fucking your own sister in whose belly you’ve already put a bastard in.” “Aye, and I’ll get another one on you soon enough after this one is born,” he said with a laugh while softly caressing the small bump on her belly. “It doesn’t change the facts though, I love you, always have and always will.” “I know brother,” Rhaenys said with a trembling voice, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll wed Cella you know,” he said. “I’ll have children with her, mayhap even grow to love her, but do not think for a moment that I will love you any less, or let you go to another man, you’re mine sweet sister, you’ll always be mine.” Rhaenys’ legs clamped around the small of his back a her cunt grabbed him like a vice as she threw her head back and screamed, finally becoming unleashed as his cock sent her wailing over her peak, and with one last thrust he moaned as he painted her womb white.  Tired he laid down beside her and draped her shivering form over him before drawing the covers over them. “I love you brother,” Rhaenys said tiredly as she laid another kiss on him. “Stay here tonight,” Daemon mumbled, his arms drawing her in closer. “Ghost will make sure that we are not interrupted,” but Rhaenys was already asleep, and with one last kiss on her pretty lips he too fell into a deep and fitful sleep. ***** Mothers ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Cersei To say that Cersei was satisfied would be an understatement. This was her best scheme yet. She was drinking the finest wine straight from the Arbor; she wore her best golden dress, and sat in front of her father. They were in the Tower of the Hand, and she couldn't stop giggling. "You did this," Tywin said, looking dead at her. It was neither a condemnation nor a question. Cersei assumed it was the best compliment he could muster. "Ha,"Cersei exclaimed, taking another swig of wine, "Rhaegar, the damn fool was protecting his first son. Probably had him prepared for our advances. However, have forgot about the northern-blooded one." Cersei chuckled and felt full of herself. Tywin didn't mention having caught his granddaughter in bed with an older boy, or the fact that she planned it. The old man probably didn't even care if it embarrassed him. It didn't matter if House Lannister got itself a crown. "Well you've denied my orders," Tywin said, "Now we must change our plans. Not every House will follow a non-Valyrian Prince. That means we must kill Viserys as well as the King and his heir. I've convinced the King to prolong the wait until Aegon marries Margaery Tyrell. That gives us time to ensure they don't have a child." "Margaery," Cersei scoffed, "a doe-eyed slut. She had no right to take Myrcella's place as the future Queen." Tywin didn't respond to the insult. "That leaves Daemon and Myrcella. I've motioned to marry them before the next moon. He dishonoured her. It would be sensible for a speedy marriage." "A fortnight for a bethrothal?" Cersei asked. "Fine. It will be done. And what after?" "The King will give them Duskendale," Tywin said. "A fine seat for them, until Myrcella takes her crown. And it shall give her time to have children." "Children?" Cersei asked. She new children were necessary but should it be so soon? "Of be course," Tywin said, "We're in a tenuous position. Viserys already has a wife and Aegon will marry the Tyrell girl soon enough. We need to secure our House." Cersei remembered how cruel and calculated her father was about a woman's role. She remembered how he stressed her need to be a broodmare. Nevertheless, she was silent about that. "She'll have blonde-haired princes," Cersei responded, "Soon enough." "You sound sure of it," Tywin said "But we can't take chances. I want you to go to Duskendale with them. Ensure that she becomes pregnant." "Father," Cersei replied, "you're a tactician, but I don't think you're aware that children aren't more keen to bed each other when their mothers are around." Tywin stayed silent. "Fine," he finally said, "but if she's not pregnant within three moons you will go to Duskendale." *Oh, Father, you needn't worry about that.* Cersei remembered the conversation she had with her daughter not three hours past. She was drinking her her child just as she is now. "And he couldn't stop himself!" Myrcella laughed as she sipped her wine. She and Cersei were in her room, sitting on her bed and gossiping. Apparently, the crown's second son was far quicker to accept Myrcella's advances than Aegon. "And what did you do next?" Cersei asked as she stared lovingly at her beautiful daughter. She was such a doll, her soft blonde hair and cute face giving her such an innocent look. It was no wonder why Daemon couldn't take his hands off her when he realized she was hardly innocent. "I bent over and put my hands against the column," Myrcella answered. "With your tightest dress half-ripped?" Cersei asked. "With it riding up my thighs," Myrcella continued, " without smallclothes." "Oh my daughter is such a temptress!" Cersei laughed. All of her instructions of how to lure a husband finally paid off. Years of instructions, all to get a prince, had worked. "And now he can't keep his hands off me," Myrcella explained. She took a sip of her wine. A boy in his prime couldn't take his hands off a young, beautiful girl? Of course he couldn't. "Never deny, him, my sweet," Cersei said. "Soon he'll gift you with a child, and then a crown." Myrcella didn't question how was going to become queen. She knew better than to ask. Myrcella "Fuck! Fuck!" Myrcella screamed. Her body bounced up and down quickly, and she closed her eyes tightly. They were in his room, enjoying their bethrothal. She was riding Daemon, and the sounds of his pelvis slapping her arse only grew louder. Originally they said it was going to be her chance to take control during sex, but even under her, Daemon was in control, fucking her fast and hard. His right hand squeezed her arse while the other groped her small breast. She tried to control her voice but she couldn't. She was moaning and trying to balance herself, but she was relying on his grip. The pride of Casterly Rock was was touching Daemon's chest, and her beautiful blonde hair was a mess. She was so close. Suddenly Daemon grabbed her cheeks and made her look him in his mysterious grey eyes. She was breathless and her mouth gaped in awe and pleasure. "Such a pretty little girl," he groaned, before he finally exploded inside of her. Myrcella followed and felt her whole body shake. She screamed. Daemon continued fucking her as she made the most embarrassing noises and tried not to alert half of King's Landing to their fucking. By the end of it, she collapsed on top of him and felt his seed deep inside of her. Myrcella imagined fucking for years, but it was so much more intense than she ever thought. As they recovered, Daemon put his arm around her and they enjoyed the afterglow. "And this what you'll have to deal with every day," Daemon said, "Now that you tricked me into marriage." Myrcella chuckled evilly and kissed his neck. He was too easy. In all her training, Myrcella never saw the point in manipulating men beyond getting a crown out of it. Now she understood why her mother preferred this to simple dowries and flirting. It was so much fun. A few kisses on the neck and Daemon would be ready to go again, and so Myrcella would get her own pet dragon. Daemon, however, got up, put on trousers, and walked to get a jug of water. Myrcella waited in bed and decided to surprise him. She got up and put on her nightgown, one of dark red silk. She smirked and put it on. She fixed her hair, letting it pool over her breasts and she adjusted the tie around the gown, so one could almost see her womanhood. Daemon came back with two glasses of water and stopped upon seeing her. He smirked. "I like it," he said. Myrcella gushed an overly girly squeal, and Daemon only smiled more. It was too fun. Then there was a knock on the door. Without answer, the door opened and in walked Rhaenys Targaryen. She was a beautiful woman, and mayhaps a decent person. But she was interrupting. Rhaenys looked immediately at Myrcella and then Daemon, and before she could speak, Myrcella did. "We're busy, Your Grace," Myrcella said, from her corner of the room. Rhaenys, strangely, smiled at Myrcella and looked her up and down, judging her. "Aye," she said, "You are. Hmm, I can see it. You are a pretty one indeed." Rhaenys walked to Daemon and kissed his lips. She wrapped her hands around him and stuck her tongue in his mouth. Myrcella almost squeaked in surprise. "I'll see you later," Rhaenys said, pulling away from the prince. Then she walked out, closing the door behind her. Myrcella immediately stared at Daemon and crossed her arms. "So you are just like any other Targaryen," Cella stated angrily. So he's fucking his big sister. No wonder she left Willas Tyrell at the altar. I must tell mother. "I know, I know," Daemon said, putting his hands up in defense,"but I never said I was single when you tricked me into bed." "Are you going to marry her instead?"so Myrcella asked impatiently. Daemon looked uncomfortable and backed away."She and I can't marry,"he said, "nor can I make her. She's a free spirit and do what she pleases." The young blonde looked up and down here bethrothed. In truth she didn't have many feelings for him yet, beyond a very lustful friendship, so she wasn't jealous. Nevertheless, it wasn't a good thing for a husband to have other women, though her mother said that men often do. Myrcella walked over to the bed and sat down, and Daemon followed. "Let us discuss how our marriage shall be," Myrcella said. Daemon only nodded. "I know I must be a proper wife," she started,"I know my place. I will honor you and defer to your judgement in all things. I will run your household and if the gods are good I shall give you sons. You shall command me in all things, once my father gives his command to you. The septa at Casterly Rock taught me what makes a good wife. I can do needlework and under no circumstances will I deny you my body when you desire it. I have been taught to be a proper wife and I will do so. But I know many husbands enjoy their stations too much; they are controlling and abusive, and have dozens of bastards. My Prince, can you promise me not to be like that?" Daemon looked at her sadly, and instead of speaking, he grabbed her face and kissed her."I won't be cruel to you," he said, "I was already with my sister when we were together, but I shall take no one to bed but you and Rhaenys." "I am the other woman then. Do you love her?"Myrcella asked, but she didn't know why. "I always have. And she's pregnant"he said. That surprised Myrcella. "She certainly is annoyed that I've found myself with a wife to be. But mayhaps you can grow to like her." "I'm not sure how to feel," Myrcella said,"we aren't lovers. I had no right to respect you to be free and without lovers when I took you to bed. I shouldn't have tricked you." "Cella," Daemon said, "I'm very glad you did." She smiled. "Call me Cella again," she said. So his sister is pregnant. It wouldn't do to tell mother. Gods no what she'll do. I'll deal with the bitch myself. Lyanna "You're giving my son to some Lannister whore!?" Queen Lyanna screamed at her husband. They were in their Chambers, and King Rhaegar seemed ever less like the strong king he was. "Tywin tied my hands," Rhaegar said, as he undressed,"he spoke of Daemon dishonoring his granddaughter, in front of the whole court. I couldn't rightly stop him." "I don't see the problem, Lya," Elia said, as she laid on the large bed, entirely naked, "she'd be a fine wife, better than the Tyrell bitch that's marrying mine." Rhaegar approached her and smiled. He thought he could get away with deciding their son's fate. "My love," he said as he moved behind her, "he had to marry eventually." Rhaegar began removing her dress. "But the Lannister clan is full of cunts," Lyanna said. Rhaegar pulled her dress off, leaving her naked. "That's unfair," Rhaegar said. "Besides, she's just a young girl." He kissed his beautiful northern Queen. Suddenly Lyanna felt smaller hands on her breasts. She removed her lips from Rhaegar's and Elia took them for herself. They all rolled onto bed. They found their positions. Elia was at the end of the bed, her legs spread. Lyanna bent over and had her face in Elia's womanhood, while Rhaegar took from behind. "I don't-ugh-want to lose my son," the northern Queen moaned. "He'll be nearby-fuck," Rhaegar groaned "at Duskendale." He fucked get harder. "There. Happy now?" Elia asked, her hands in Lyanna's hair. "No," Lyanna pouted. "You've only complained all day long," Elia said, looking her lover in the eye. "Lord husband, fuck her in the arse. I'll shut this bitch up." Lyanna's eyes opened wide but before she could speak her face was in Elia's cunt and Rhaegar was fucking her arse vigorously. Fine, I'll see the little slut who's stealing my son. It was past midnight, and the queen walked through Maegor's holdfast. Upon reaching Myrcella's door, she knocked and waited. What she saw though, was not what she expected. As the door opened, she saw a young beautiful blonde girl, mayhaps four feet and ten. She had cute cheeks and a baby fat in her small figure. She looked so innocent. "Oh, your grace," Myrcella said, "I was not expecting you."Suddenly the young girl bowed. "I thank you, for allowing me the honor to marry your son." "I um-"the queen tried to say. This wasn't the Cersei clone she expected. "You seem a sweet girl. We shall talk in the morning." And the queen left. Gods, this is what not I expected, when I heard my son had been seduced. Myrcella "What is it?" Daemon asked as Myrcella closed the door. He was naked, and awaited her to return and jump in his awaiting cock. Myrcella only smirked. "Nothing, now let's continue." It's too easy. Chapter End Notes I accidentally posted this to the wrong story. Thanks Alex13 Also, next chapter is the wedding   Also. I -Avery- have written another Jon/Myrcella fic. Check it out. It's called "Queen Myrcella." 3/29/2018 This went longer than I assumed. I have found this story tiring and too directionless. As of this moment, I am ending it and offering it up for adoption. Otherwise, I'll give it to Daemon until further notice. Much Love - Avery Parting is such sweet sorrows. End Notes This is just the beginning. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!