Chapter Text
He called for Mellos after the sun set. It had been some time since Viserys had required this... particular tonic, from the maester. The man pursed his lips, but made no comment.
A king's command must always be followed, and the grandmaester was a loyal servant to the crown.
With Alicent bedridden with her latest pregnancy, Viserys had few options to satisfy his lusts. His wife was extremely beautiful. A lithe body, a pretty face.
No common whore could compare.
"The princess has been made ready for you, my king," Mellos returned to his chamber some hours later. He ducked his head in a low bow, "Ser Laenor is out for the evening, I do not believe he is expected to return until the morning."
With a clipped nod, Viserys made for the door. Mellos was the only one outside the kingsguard who knew of this... vice. Of his desires.
Ser Harold could not meet his eye as Viserys entered his daughter's chambers. He paid the knight no mind as he continued through the inner chambers. His cane clicked against the stone floor.
The servants had been dismissed. Maids sent away. Guards. Every room he entered was empty. Save one.
Rhaenyra lay in her nightclothes upon the mattress. An empty goblet on her side table. He did not know what Mellos told his daughter to convince her to drink the tonics, but she never woke on these visits. Even as her body responded to his touch. Always so responsive for him, his Rhaenyra. So delightful.
She had always been his delight, before the realm's.
It had been some time, since Viserys had required her in this way though. She'd grown only more beautiful. He smiled as he gazed upon her limp form. Long limbs spread across the sheets, knees bent over the edge. Her soft features glowing in the candlelight.
"As beautiful as your mother, my dear," Viserys told her as he approached the bed. His hand slid over her thigh.
Before, with Alicent's previous pregnancies, his daughter had been unwed. Rhaenyra a maiden, at least in name, even if he had long since taken that from her.
"Perhaps my son shall sit the throne after all," Viserys hummed to himself as he pushed the fabric of her dressing gown away. His hand rose up her leg, revealing that which he came for. The sweet cunt covered in silver curls. He'd fill the aching emptiness he knew she felt, with her husband so often distracted.
A grown woman now, his Rhaenyra. Wedded and bedded. Her firstborn would one day sit the Iron Throne. Fingers grazing over her taut stomach, Viserys thought of Alicent. Of Aemma.
"My seed catches quite quickly," Viserys leaned down to press his lips to pale flesh. Rhaenyra gasped softly at the kiss. Her body twitched, back arching as he mouthed at her stomach. He moaned, "And you have always been strong my girl."
The maesters thought Alicent would provide him with a second son soon enough. Perhaps Rhaenyra would provide him with a third. The next prince of Dragonstone.
His cock thickened and Viserys tugged at the tie holding the top of the dressing gown closed. In recent years, Rhaenyra's breasts had blossomed and her ample bossom spilled out as he removed the last barrier.
"Stronger than your mother," Viserys palmed at the muscles of her legs. His hands rose over her sides before fondling at her breasts. Rhaenyra mewled beneath him and he chuckled, "Strong enough to carry my son for me now, I think."
The boy would be entirely Valyrian. Nearly. Just a bit of Arryn blood, from Aemma.
He traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb. Viserys exhaled slowly, drinking in Rhaenyra's beauty. Valyrian beauty. So very different from the way his wife looked when she came to his bed.
Alicent was thin and lithe where Rhaenyra had filled out, her body soft and curvy. She sounded just like Aemma as his hand cupped her between her legs. Breath hitching, mouth parting in a soft gasp.
Finger curving just so, Viserys slipped a digit into her folds. Alicent often prepared herself for him. She came wet and ready so he needn't worry about tearing her delicate flesh.
No such preparation had been undertaken here. Nor would it be needed. Rhaenyra's cunt slickened for him quickly as Viserys drilled a finger in and out. His daughter was Targaryen, and Targaryen women were not so fragile.
He did not wish to stretch her either. The time necessary would be a waste. Viserys prefered her hole tight when it clung to his cock, milking him for the seed he would leave deep inside her womb.
With a groan, Viserys bowed his head to her chest. Rhaenyra whined, squirming beneath him. Her back arching as his breath puffed against her flesh. Nipples pebbled and he smiled.
"Good girl," Viserys said and he took one into his mouth. Her folds grew wetter, his finger sliding with ease as he suckled at her breast.
Perhaps he would request her, just once, after she gave birth. Aemma had not nursed any of their babes, but her milk had been quite delicious. He was curious to see how their daughter's would compare.
His tongue flicked over the nub as he drew back. Rhaenyra groaned. Body trembling, sweat slick on her skin. Licking upwards, Viserys hummed as he came to her throat. He mouthed at her pulse point, relishing in the quick pace of her heart as the blood pumped beneath his lips.
Tugging at his laces, Viserys hurried forward. His cock throbbed. Fully erect, thick with need. He lined himself up with care and then thrust forward with a quick roll of his hips.
Rhaenyra's head fell back. A low shriek as her body spasmed. He held her legs a bit wider and pulled out. His next thrust had tears gathering on her lashes.
Still, she did not wake. Viserys watched as his cock sunk into her moist folds. The flesh clung to him, twitching with every move. He quickened his pace as the pleasure coiled in his gut, more and more with every thrust.
"Aemma~" Viserys heard himself say as he watched Rhaenyra's face twisting with her own pleasure. Her brow furrowing, lips curling back as little gasps slipped out with each of his thrusts.
He couldn't help himself. Leaning forward, Viserys stole one of those gasps, licking into Rhaenyra's mouth. Her lips were soft, plump. Viserys lost himself in it, in the sensations as the present mixed with his memories.
Unlike her mother, Rhaenyra didn't respond to his affection. The kiss entirely one sided as his tongue explored her cavernous mouth. It had been some time, but Viserys still remember where each of her sensitive spots were. The same as her mother's, he'd been excited to find, years earlier when he'd taken his pleasure that first time.
The trembling of her body grew worse. Her cunt clenched around his cock. Viserys groaned. His legs shook as he reached his climax. The release washed over him.
His seed gushing into the waiting womb. Viserys patted lightly at Rhaenyra's stomach, head pillowed on her breasts as he caught his breath.
"You're welcome, my dear," Viserys whispered, pressing another kiss to Rhaenyra's chest. He rose up, slowly, and stole another from her lips, sucking lightly at the bottom one to leave a faint rosy color.
She looked even more like her mother that way. Viserys sighed, smiling as he cupped her face. Thumb brushing over her flushed cheeks.
The color to her flesh. The way her cunt remained tight around his softening cock. She'd enjoyed their coupling too, he was sure. Her body worked, even now, to milk every drop of his seed.
"The prince that was promised," Viserys massaged at her tight muscles. The trembling center where her womb lay beneath him.
For a short while, Viserys lay there on top of her, enjoying the churning of her gut. He imagined his seed taking root even then, his cock still inside her. The glory of House Targaryen coming together inside her just as their bodies had. Their son. His boy.
Rhaenyra had done her best to give him all he asked from her over the years. She would give him this too.
His cock stirred at the thought. Viserys licked at her breasts and dragged her legs a bit higher. One round was enough with Alicent, but Rhaenyra was a Targaryen. She deserved a bit more.
"There will be no need for moon tea this time, Mellos," Viserys informed the maester after he left. He smiled at the man, grin spreading wide across his face, "I would not wish to deprive my daughter of her heir."
"Yes, your grace," Mellos coughed, head bowing low.
Viserys returned to his chambers, humming softly to himself. He drifted off to sleep, still smiling, his mind well-focused on the future. Alicent still had another month of her pregnancy left. By the time she was ready to attend to her wifely duties once more, Rhaenyra would be round with child. His legacy secure. The succession.
A son. A strong boy, fit to carry Aegon's prophecy. To sit the Iron Throne. A true Targaryen prince, even if he held the Velaryon name.
The whole realm would celebrate, when Rhaenyra's child came into the world. The Realm's Delight bringing forth a prince for the Targaryen dynasty.
But she would always be his delight first. His heir.
Just as their son would be hers.