Chapter Text
Jon's name is Prince Aegon Targaryen. However, for the purposes for the story, I'll be referring to him as Jon, and Prince Jon if there are other character names Jon being referred to as well. As well, Lyanna is the same age as Catelyn in this story, born in 264 AC. She married Rhaegar in 279 AC. Aegon "Jon" Targaryen was born in 280 AC. Lyanna and Jon also have dark hair, not dark brown hair.
His younger siblings are Princess Rhaenys (b. 283 AC), Prince Aemon (b. 285 AC), Prince Daeron (b. 287 AC), Princess Visenya (b. 289 AC) and Princess Shaena (b. 292 AC). Jon has his mother's dark hair but his father's purple eyes, while Shaena is the reverse, with silver hair and grey eyes. Rhaenys and Daeron both look like Targaryens, while Aemon and Visenya look like Starks.
Fourth Moon, 294 AC
Lady Cersei Lannister
Of all the things she had expected, Lady Cersei Lannister had not contemplated that she would encounter the Prince of Dragonstone in Maegor's Holdfast. She had been returning to her chambers following a meeting with her father and brothers, climbing up the vast stairway of the Red Keep, when she found the Crown Prince seated at the bottom of the staircase to the twelfth floor of the fortress. His eyes were closed and his expression firm. He wore dark brown trousers and a black doublet, embroidered with his surcoat, the three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen, halved with the grey direwolf of House Stark.
Laying near his feet was his white direwolf of the North, the one they called Ghost. A fitting name, considering the white devil never uttered a sound.
The direwolf turned it's head to look at her, red eyes regarding her with cool gaze. Cersei's eyes widened in both fear and trepidation at the sight. She did not wish to step closer, lest the beast suddenly decide against the sound of silence and snap at her, so instead she called out, "Your Grace? Is something the matter?"
At the sound of her voice, Prince Jon Targaryen slowly opened his eyes, the hardness of his expression fading as he looked up at her. "Oh, Lady Cersei. Forgive me, I did not see you there."
He stood up and brushed off his breeches, before giving her a faint smile. "I apologise if I startled you. I was feeling a little lightheaded after my training session with Ser Arthur, so I took a moment to sit down and clear my head. He did not go easy on me today. I lost track of the time."
It was not you I was startled by. Cersei nearly said, but wisely refrained from doing so. She simply nodded her head in response. The prince seemed rather close to his wolf. She did not wish to offend him.
Cersei looked around the space, noticing something amiss. "My prince, should a knight of the Kingsguard not be assigned to you? Why are you alone?"
"I sent Ser Oswell to retrieve something for me in the city markets," Prince Jon answered, crouching down to pet his wolf's white fur. "And besides, I am not alone. I have Ghost with me."
"...I see."
The prince looked up at her, continuing to stroke the wolf's fur. "That is a beautiful dress, my lady. And your jewellery - it must have been quite expensive. Is it a special occasion?"
Cersei resisted the urge to smirk. Expense meant nothing to a Lannister. The Lannisters always wore the finest clothing and accents, as benefiting their status as a Great House and as former royalty. Today, she had chosen to wear a gown with stripes of green satin and black velvet, with black Myrish lace above the bodice. On her finger was a golden ring with a large emerald, the colour of which matched her eyes, and around her neck was a necklace with an intricate adornment of diamonds and emeralds.
"No, no special occasion, my prince," She replied, bowing her head.
This was the longest conversation she had ever had Prince Jon Targaryen. She had not interacted much with the prince following his return from the North. Following the Greyjoy's failed rebellion, the eight-year-old Prince Jon had been to sent to foster at Winterfell under the care of his uncle Lord Brandon Stark, with Ser Oswell Whent as his guardian and protector.
Now, five years later, his father had summoned him back to the capitol. His betrothed, Princess Arianne Martell, had reneged on her betrothal to marry Rhaegar's eldest to marry Rhaegar's younger brother Prince Viserys. Why, she did not know. She as well as many others suspected that the Dornish whore had become pregnant with Viserys' child. Or perhaps it was another man's child. Knowing her, she doubted that Viserys was truly the father.
The news of the broken betrothal had spread like wildfire through the realm. It a huge scandal and a massive embarrassment to both the Crown and to House Martell. Rhaegar, normally a man known for his calm and patient demeanour, had been furious at Viserys for bringing dishonour to House Targaryen. He had publicly rebuked him, in front of the whole court of the Red Keep. With the approval of the Prince of Dorne, he had exiled him and his new wife to the Free Cities for seven years.
It had been quite the sight. The shocked looks of both Viserys and the Princess had nearly caused Cersei to burst out laughing.
Following this, the Prince of Dragonstone had returned on the third moon of the year. A month had passed since. Rhaegar had not yet arranged another betrothal for his eldest. As such, the fourteen-year-old Prince of Dragonstone remained unbetrothed, with a army of noble maidens vying for his hand. Having lost his chance with Rhaegar, her father was prepared to do everything in his power so that Jaime's daughter Myrielle would be the future Queen. If she had allowed her husband to beget a daughter on her, she had no doubt she would scheme as much as her father to secure a marriage between the Prince of Dragonstone and her child.
If she had only been five years younger, and unwed, she would have done everything in her power to marry him.
When she had first lain eyes on him, she had been taken aback by how handsome he was. He did not possess the ethereal beauty of his father or grandmother, and he mostly favoured his mother in appearance. Dark hair, a long, clean-shaven and lean face, sharp features, a slender frame. If it were not for his eyes and lack of facial and body hair, she would have thought him a northerner.
But his eyes - those beautiful, gorgeous orbs of amethyst - were so similar to his father that even if he were not already comely, it would have made up for everything else. It almost hurt to stare into his violet gaze, for it brought back memories. Memories of her silver prince, and the dreams she had had of him as a young girl. Dreams that had never come to be.
Prince Jon looked older than his age, though not by much. He was ten-and-four, yet if she did not better, she would have thought him perhaps ten-and-nine. She assumed it was because of the northern climate.
She had not spoken many words to the prince beyond formal greetings, but when she had first been presented to him alongside her husband, he had kissed her hand and smiled at her, complimenting her beauty. She was thankful for her restraint, for when he had smiled at her, it had threatened to send a light shiver through her body.
When she looked at him, she could not help but think of how big of mistake Arianne Martell had made choosing that pathetic worm Viserys over the Crown Prince. Of course, the woman would one day rule Dorne in her own right, instead of merely being a queen consort. Still, she suspected that if that Dornish whore could see him, she would cast doubt on her choice.
The return of the prince had affected her more deeply than she had thought. In her dreams, both at night and during the day, she had often fantasied about what her life would be like with Rhaegar. Lately, she did not know why, but Prince Jon had begun to be the subject of those fantasies. When she saw him in court, she would envision about being his wife, playing courtesy with the lords and ladies of the realm alongside him while mocking them behind their back.
When he practiced in the training yards practicing with the sword or lance, she imagined giving him her favour. He would win a grand tourney and crown her the queen of love and beauty.
At night, when she was alone in her bed with only herself and her thoughts, she had previously pleasured herself imagining Rhaegar atop of her, claiming her as his woman. Now, when she slipped her fingers into her cunt, her fantasy would revolve about Prince Jon. He would take her from behind, like a wolf would take a bitch in the heat.
What a fantasy indeed. Cersei thought with a wry smile. To be fucked by a boy half my age.
As she watched him pet his wolf, she realised that she had an opportunity to acquaint herself better with the prince. It would not be for her lust. She would do her best to get into his good graces for her family. Her father would approve. If she played it right, she could even talk to him about a possible betrothal between her niece and him. Cersei did not care, but she knew her father would. And she knew it would benefit House Lannister to be tied to the Crown.
"If I may ask, my prince," Cersei began, clasping her hands together in front of her. "If you are not busy, I would like to know how was your time in the North? After five years at Winterfell, it must be so different coming back home."
She needed to make light conversation first. That would be the first step."
The prince smiled at her. Gods, he had such a lovely smile. Still, in spite of that, she hoped that he would not take too long. She cared little for the North, or any other region besides the west.
"It is. King's Landing, the crownlands, it is a beautiful place," Jon said. "Ultimately, I do consider it a home. But the North has charms to it that no place in the known world can ever hope to match. To outsiders, to those south of the Neck, the North may not seem beautiful. It is cold, desolate and harsh, with vast wilderness filled with wild beasts, forests, pine-covered hills, snow-capped mountains. Winter often results in death and starvation. Even in the summer, there are still snowfalls. But...I find so much beauty there despite the harshness of it all. There is a tranquillity, a peacefulness, an easiness there. A lack of artifice, something that you do not find in the south. It is not something I can easily describe."
Yes, it did indeed. He had not done a good job selling her on it's supposed beauty. Why could anyone wish to live in a harsh and desolate place like that, with its heavy snowstorms, famine, wildling murderers and rapers, and its dangerous wilder-beasts.
"As for my time there, it was wonderful. My uncle Lord Brandon is very popular with the lords of the North, and he treated me like I was a son of his own. As did my uncle Eddard and uncle Benjen. I grew very close to my Stark cousins, particularly Robb and Arya, my uncle Eddard's children."
"Eddard Stark is the Lord of Sea Dragon Point, correct?" Her husband loved Ned Stark. They had been wards together in the Vale, and had become best friends. During the early days of their marriage, when Robert had tried to form a rapport with her, he would tell her stories of his time in the Vale with Ned Stark. Cersei had met the man a few times. He had once visited Robert at Storm's End with Jon Arryn. It had been the happiest she had ever seen her husband.
Stark was quiet, plain-faced man; he had not made much of an impression on her.
The only Stark she truly knew was the Queen, and by the Gods, she hated Lyanna Stark. She swore the wolf-bitch envied her, for since her arrival at the Red Keep, she had subtly made her life harder than it should be.
The woman had stolen what had been hers. Living in the Red Keep, being forced to see her with the man who should have been her husband, it had never not made her angry. She could not even seduce Rhaegar for her own pleasure. The King was notorious for his chastity, and his faithfulness and devotion to his wife. Many a women lesser than her had tried to win the affection of the beautiful king. All of them had failed.
Her hatred of Lyanna was also aided by the fact that the woman had been the one to place her chambers on the top floor of the fortress. She had learned from her father that the Queen had specifically ordered the placement. Most likely at the suggestion of her good-sister and Princess Elia Martell. Those three were all close, and all three she hated fiercely.
Jon nodded. "Yes. My grandfather Lord Rickard Stark granted him the the lordship before he died. Before that, he was the master-at-arms at Winterfell. He and Ser Oswell taught me swordplay. He married Carolei Waynwood. She is a good woman, as is Lady Catelyn. My uncle Benjen serves the Night's Watch as First Ranger."
The prince spoke of his Stark family with such admiration and pride. She did not know much about the Starks, only that they were one of the most ancient bloodlines of Westeros, predating even House Lannister. They had conquered the North and ruled as Kings of Winter for thousands of years, till Aegon's Conquest.
When she was young, she had once commented on Torrhen's choice to submit rather than fight. The other kingdoms had fought against him. She had called it cowardice. Tyrion and Jaime considered his decision to be a wise, for it have saved the North the bloodshed the other kingdoms had faced. Their ancestor King Loren had allied with the Gardeners to fight the dragons, yet he had lost. He had kept his head however, as well as his lands and most titles. All he has lost was his crown, and the right to be called king.
"I for one am very glad he chose to bend the knee and live." Tyrion had said to her and Jaime. Jaime had laughed. She had not.
Traditionally, the Starks and the North itself were an isolated state, rarely involving itself in the south, and vice versa. That had changed in recent years, due to the marriage between Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. Several prominent northern lords have been married to southern noblewomen, mostly from the riverlands and the Vale, and several northern noblewomen had been married to southern lords. She was even aware that Brandon Stark's daughter Sansa was betrothed to Willas Tyrell, the heir to Highgarden.
"Still, despite everything I just said, I am happy to be home," Cersei snapped back to their conversation. So lost in her thoughts had she been that she stopped paying attention to what he was saying. "As much as I love my northern cousins, I missed my younger siblings, my mother, my father, my grandmother. If things had gone differently, I would wished to talk to my uncle Viserys, to tell him that I do not blame him or Arianne for what they did."
Jon sighed. "I love Winterfell. I will always consider it my home - my true home. But I cannot simply stay at Winterfell just because I want to. As Crown Prince, I have responsibilities to the realm. To my family. To both the common born and highborn. Surely you understand that, my lady. I am certain you have your duties as a daughter, as a sister, as a wife."
Cersei was barely able to suppress a flinch. Her duties as a wife? To Robert? What a jest.
When King Aerys, the Second of His Name, had been tragically killed during Duskendale's foolish defiance, Rhaegar had ascended to the throne, much to the relief of the Seven Kingdoms.
With Aerys gone, her father had hoped to broker a match between herself and the new king, but much to their disappointment, Rhaegar had chosen to marry Lord Rickard's daughter Lyanna Stark. They had been wed within a few months of his coronation. Rhaegar's wedding to Lyanna Stark was one of the worst days of her life. She had never quite forgiven her father for forcing her to attend. Lyanna Stark, the plain, long-faced skinny wolf, was now queen, and mother to six children. It should have been her. She should have been his queen.
Instead, her father had given her hand in marriage to Robert Baratheon, the Lord of Storm's End. At first, she had had some hope for her marriage. Robert did not possess Rhaegar or Jaime's beauty, but he was a very tall and extremely well-muscled, and handsome in his own right with his black hair and bright blue eyes. Even then, though she had thought him loud, brash and dumb, he had been kind to her in the first few weeks of her marriage. She had even found pleasure in their initial couplings.
However, that had changed. Soon, she had come to learn of his insatiable appetites: his wenching and whoring, his drinking, his love of hunting, his excessive eating. And most of all, she had learned quite quickly the man he truly was while inebriated.
It was even worse now, as he has gained several stones from the excessive drinking and gluttony. Gone was the once proud warrior and now stood a sad, pathetic, fat oaf, with more chins than he had muscles.
Her father had been no help. When she had told him of how often Robert dishonoured her with his infidelity and abuse, he had simply told her to be a good, dutiful wife. He had also sternly told her to bear as many children for her husband. How disappointed he was when in nearly eleven years of marriage she had not. She refused. She would never bear a child of his seed.
The only solace in her life since her mother had been killed by the monster parading as her brother had been her twin Jaime. But, since his marriage to Ashara Dayne, Jaime had changed. Once, she had him wrapped around her finger, answering to her beck and call. On the eve of her wedding, they had made sweet, passionate love, just as they had the night before his wedding to the Dornish whore.
Three years later, when she had visited Casterly Rock for the first time since her marriage, she had attempted to seduce him, but he had refused. He had refused her. He had proclaimed his faithfulness to his Dornish wife. He claimed to no longer desire her the way she did him. He had told her to forget about their past and to love each other as simply brother and sister.
Cersei had been furious. At him, but especially at that smug Dayne slut. During her visits to the Rock, her good sister never failed to throw in her face how attentive and loving Jaime was to her and their four children. She even had the audacity to tell her to keep away from her twin. She had been shocked that Jaime had confessed their affair to his wife.
No matter how she tried to win back affection, Jaime refused her over and over. He failed to see that they belonged together. They had come into this world together, him holding her foot. They needed each other. Why did he fail to see that? He did not even seem to care about how Robert treated her either. That was what upset her the most. Before her own wedding, he had promised her that he would kill Robert if he ever hurt her. That had been a false promise. Jaime was good at false promises, she had come to learn. It must have been the influence of her dwarf brother and her cunt of good-sister.
In the later years of her marriage, after coming to the belief that she was barren, Robert left her alone. The whores and wenches of the Red Keep were better company for him than her. He had been granted a position on the small council as Master of War, and so she now lived in the Red Keep with her husband. The dour Stannis and his Massey wife ruled Storm's End in his name, as they had done for many years prior. If the Gods were good, Stannis would succeed her husband as Lord of Storm's End.
Robert had claimed his rights frequently in the early years of their marriage, but as the years past by, he came to her chambers less and less. Now, he would not even visit her chambers twice a year. Even then, so roaring drunk, blubbering and pink-faced was he that she did not even need to endure his touch. She would finish him with her mouth or hands, and he would fall back on her bed, passed out from the drink. When he awoke, he would forget what had happened.
There had been so many nights that she had wanted to kill him. To free herself of this farce of a marriage. She had even considered arranging for an accident. It would be so easy. His love of the hunt provided ample opportunity. Or she could smother him with her pillow. But, she had never acted upon it. Nor had she attempted to take another lover. In the Red Keep, there were too many eyes and ears to hide such an affair. And whenever she passed them by, the men of Storm's End often stared her way with longing in their eyes. They did not even bother to disguise their lust. But, they were too loyal to their lord, too afraid of his wrath.
Despite being a fat oaf and a terrible lord, Robert was a very popular and beloved ruler in the stormlands. He was even quite well-liked in King's Landing. He got along quite well with Queen Lyanna. Those things did not surprise her. Men as loud and boastful and stupid as Robert often attracted likeminded louts.
She was also thankful that Robert had never acknowledged his bastards. Or even worse, be a father to them. He had at least given her - and his bastards - that, if nothing else.
"Yes, we have have our responsibilities and obligations to bear," Cersei replied, once again bowing her head in a diminutive manner. "I aim to be a dutiful wife to my husband."
What nonsense is this? Cersei asked herself. Why am I having this discussion with this boy prince?
The prince got up and tilted his head, giving her a thoughtful look. "Yes, I'm sure. Sadly though, it seems your husband often fails to fulfill his duty to you, does he not?
Cersei snapped her head up, looking at him in confusion. "I do not understand, my prince."
"My lady, I would first like to say I am not trying to pity you. I am simply offering my own reflection on what I have seen and observed," The prince placed a hand on his chest. "He is unfaithful to you. He regularly whores and wenches. He does not even bother to hide his infidelities- the whole city has seen come in and out of brothels and alehouses. He has fathered numerous bastards while married to you. He beats you, rapes you, justifying his abuse, blaming it on the with drink. As a husband, as a man who vowed to protect you, in that sense more than any he has failed you."
The lioness was stunned. How did he know all this? Yes, Robert was known for his promiscuity, but she had not once told anyone about the beatings. Or when he would force himself on her, using her until he was spent, leaving bruises over her body as he ravaged her in a drunken stupor. Never caring about her well-being.
Jon stepped forward. "As I said, I am not trying to pity you. I do not know you well, my lady, but from what I have gathered you seem like a person who would not want that. Especially from a stranger."
The Prince of Dragonstone moved closer, bridging the gap between them. To her surprise, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "All I know is that if you were my wife, I would never dishonour you the way he does. If I were your husband, I would treat you - the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms - like I would my queen."
Cersei was speechless. In that moment, she could say nothing in response. She had not expected such words from anyone, let alone the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.
"I do not know what to say," Cersei once again bowed her head towards the prince, obscuring a small smile on her face. "I thank you for your kind words, your grace."
Jon's arm fell back to his side. "It is no trouble, Lady Cersei. It is simply my opinion."
"So, I am truly the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms?" Cersei found herself asking, keeping her tone light. Why, she did not know. Was she simply trying to continue their conversation?
Of course, she already knew she was. Her beauty was unsurpassed. There was no woman who could match her. She had heard such flattery before from both men and women. So why was she charmed by his declaration?
Jon let out a slight chuckle. "Aye. I do not know many women, mind you. The North is home to many beauties, but I have not yet ventured to the kingdoms. But I doubt I will meet as a woman as lovely as you. It is impossible. Your brother Tyrion once told me that he believes your niece Myrielle is as beautiful as you were when you were her age."
Cersei almost snorted. Myrielle? That insipid girl? She doubted that very much. Even as a young girl, Cersei had been called a surpassingly beautiful child. She did not see that in her niece.
"If I am being truthful, my lady, your niece is lovely, in both temperament and looks. I have no doubt that she will blossom into a great beauty, a shining gem among the south," Jon raised his hand to her golden hair, and wrapped one of her curls around her finger. "But, even then, I doubt her beauty will come close to you."
As she stared into his gaze, her eyes slowly widened in realisation. Of course. The lust in his violet eyes was thick and vivid, his desire apparent for her to see now. Cersei allowed herself to smile as she regarded his comely face. If she was being truthful to herself, she had wanted this from the moment he had arrived in the city.
"You have been in the North for far too long, your grace," Cersei placed her hand on his cheek, and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "You have been surrounded by northern women for most of your life. You will need a firm, southern hand. If you would permit me to visit your chambers after dark, I would gladly wish to show you the charms of the south."
The prince smirked. "I would gladly wish for you to show me your charms. But...not tonight."
Cersei frowned. "Then when?"
"Now."
Before she could respond, Jon suddenly jolted forward and pushed her, his right arm circling her torso and his left cupping her neck as he planted his mouth on her lips. Cersei yelped in surprise and instinctively attempted to pull away, but the dark-haired prince pressed against her chest, pinning her against the wall and trapping her mouth with his tongue.
When he released the kiss, Cersei breathed out, looking around in fear. It was not that she did not welcome his sudden advance. But, this place was not the place for such action. "My prince, it is too dangerous here. If someone were to chance upon us-"
"I assure you that will not happen," Jon brushed his lips against her cheek, moving down to her neck. "I have made several arrangements to ensure such."
Arrangements? What did he mean by that? He could not have expected this to have happened. She had not planned on bedding him when she had stopped to speak to him. Cersei wanted to question him on what he had said, but as he began caressing the side of her neck with his mouth, it became difficult for her mind to muster up the words.
"I-I, your grace. If you wait, we can go to your bedchambers. Or mine, if you desire." Cersei felt her voice weakening with every word.
"No," Jon reached around her gown and began unlacing the strings of her bodice. "We do not have time for that. I want you. Right here, right now."
As do I.
Her breasts spilled out from her bodice as Jon pulled down the top of her dress. As he continued to kiss her neck, his hands reached up and fondled her breasts, kneading them like dough. His hands were not as rough or coarse as Robert, though she could feel the calluses on his fingers. If she was being honest, it felt quite good atop her soft, unblemished skin. Before long, he began moving his mouth down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses and he led himself all the way to her left nipple.
She let out a sigh of pleasure as Jon began to lick her nipple, swiping and suckling at it with his tongue, before he moved to the right.
As Jon alternated between her nipples, his ministrations caused several moans to escape from her mouth. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, her eyes rolling back as the Prince of Dragonstone worshipped her breasts.
Gods, he has not even entered inside me yet and I feel this way. Cersei thought to herself. He is only ten-and-four yet he seems to know his way with women.
She wondered how many women he had lain with in the North. He was still so young, but for as handsome as he was and for his status as Crown Prince, she was sure there had been many women both highborn and low eager to share his bed. Had he fathered any bastards? Who were their mothers? A serving girl, a farmer's daughter or a miller's wife? His uncle Brandon Stark had acknowledged several bastards despite his marriage to Catelyn Tully. Jon's youth did not matter in that regard. Her father's vassal Lord Serrett had fathered his heir when he was ten-and-twelve on his wife, a woman double his age.
Cersei shook her head, clearing her thoughts. They did not matter right now. At this moment, she wanted him. She wanted him badly. But they would need to be quick.
There would be ample opportunity in the future to go as slow as they liked.
Wait, what of his direwolf? What was the wolf's name, Ghost? She did not feel comfortable fucking the prince while that animal watched.
"Don't worry about Ghost," Jon said, as if he had somehow read her mind. "He won't look. He's a good, loyal boy."
She looked over his shoulder. To her surprise, the wolf had turned the other way, staring down the entrance to the staircase. To Cersei, it was as if the direwolf was watching for anyone. How smart were these direwolves?
As Jon moved away from her breasts, she reached down and hiked up her dress. She then pushed away her undergarments, revealing to him her glistening womanhood.
Jon reached down, and when he touched her cunt, she let out a soft moan, followed by one slightly louder when he pushed two of his fingers into her. He made light jabs at her womanhood, sending small bolts of pleasure through her body.
"Gods, you are already as wet as the narrow seas." He grinned, raising his hand up to his nose and smelling her wetness on her fingers.
Cersei let out a faint, airy breath, before setting her gaze on his face. To her relief, Jon unbuckled his belt. "Yes, you were right: we should not waste any time."
Pushing his breeches down to his ankles, before she could take a proper look at his manhood, Jon then surprised her by reaching behind her and lifted her up with ease, holding her in place against the wall. She had thought he would turn her around and take her from behind, but it seemed he wish to do it from the front. She was happy for that. She wished to see his beautiful face as he fucked her, to see his violet eyes blazing with desire for her as he claimed her for his own.
As he settled himself between her thighs, she encased her legs around his waist, keeping him close to her. She could feel the tip of his member against her cunt.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
The lioness nodded. Jaime and Robert had both large cocks. As much as she hated to admit it, Robert's manhood was quite impressive. It was one of the few good things she could praise about her husband. No matter how big the prince was, she knew she could handle him.
She was a Lannister, after all. Even in the face of a dragon, she would not cower.
Cersei let out a loud gasp as he entered inside her, throwing her head back and crying out in both pleasure and pain. Her golden curls fell across her face as Jon filled her up completely, her face scrunching into a slight grimace. His cock was far bigger than she had expected.
She had thought herself ready, but even she was not prepared for this.
Sheathed within her, as damp and as willing as she was, she could feel his hard and throbbing member move within her. In both girth and length, it was bigger than Jaime, or even Robert for that matter. Upon entry it brought her immediate joy, but also momentary pain. A pain that she had not felt since her first night with Jaime. A pain that she felt in all her nights with Robert.
Except unlike with Robert, she did not resent the pain. For she knew it would very soon be replaced with utter bliss.
The prince noticed her wince. His expression softened, and he regarded her with a look of concern. "Lady Cersei, are you alright? If it hurts, I will try to move as slowly-"
Cersei pressed a hard kiss against his mouth, stopping him from finishing. She had only needed a few moments to become used to his length. Now, the pain was receding. She would not have him see her as weak. "No, continue. Continue."
The prince narrowed his eyes, before a small grin spread across his face. "Very well."
Jon's manhood retreated from her cunt, before entering once again. This time, the pain from entry was less than before. Jon stared at her face, seemingly gauging her reaction, before continuing with the third stroke. Those initial thrusts, he was slow and deliberate.
By the sixth stroke, the pain was negligible, eclipsed entirely by her desire. He began increasing the pace, her warm, wet cunt welcoming his impending entry into her womanhood.
Her body shook violently as Jon once again increased the speed, ramming into her cunt. Her ass jiggled atop his hands, her breasts heaving with every thrust. Jon's expression was focused and determined, his stare concentrated directly on her and nothing else.
This feeling....this is it. This is what I want. This is what I need. Cersei had been concentrating on not making too much noise lest anyone hear, but she could not help it. Try as she might to stop herself, soft moans escaped her mouth.
As he continued to thrust hard and fast within her, Jon buried his head between her breasts, his mouth buzzing against her bare skin. He had found a steady rhythm that they both could enjoy. Cersei placed her chin on the top of his head, her hands now patting the back of his head in rhythm with his strokes.
In this moment, for the first time in years, Cersei Lannister was content. She felt complete. Once more, she felt whole.
"Gods, you are tight!" Jon grunted, as he continued to pound at her cunt. "So tight!"
It had been several minutes since Jon had entered her. She did not know how long exactly they had been going at this. Four, five, six minutes? She had lost track of the time long ago. She knew it was too long, too dangerous, but now she did not care. She was so close to release.
So close.
Was the prince close to finishing as well? Young men often did not last long, no matter how virile they were. When a man was near his end, his thrusts would become hurried.
Yet she felt herself nearing her peak, he was still continuing at the pace he had maintained.
"Are you close, my lady?" Jon hissed. "If you are, I'll go faster."
"Yes. Go. Go. I'm close," Cersei whimpered, not properly paying attention to what she was saying. She captured his mouth with a kiss, before saying. "I'm so close."
As he promised, Jon's thrusts became faster, but also more forceful. He was rough. Not as rough as Robert, but rougher than she would have expected. She found that she liked his roughness. He was no brute like Robert. It matched well with her own desire.
Her release was impending. She felt her wetted cunt rapidly convulse, her walls tightening around his cock, as she neared her climax. She closed her eyes, taking in all the joy she was feeling. It wouldn't be long now. It would only be seconds. Seconds until she came. Seconds till-
"Aaaagh!" Cersei cried out, as she was struck by a sudden yet intensely powerful sensation of ecstasy, coursing through her entire body like a tidal wave. It was a rapture she had no felt in years, not since the last night she had spent with Jaime.
In response to her peak, Jon groaned. He buried himself deep within her, before erupting. His violet eyes flared as he found his release, his seed gushing through cunt as he exploded within her.
So beautiful. She thought, sighing as she stared into his purple haze. His eyes...they are so beautiful. Not just his eyes. Everything.
For one moment, one blissful moment, everything was perfect. All her troubles, all her worries, all her hate and distrust, it was momentarily discarded. The two remained locked in place; Cersei with her back against the wall, her arms and legs encircled around his shoulder and waist respectively, her chest heaving, her body covered in sweat. Jon remained lodged within her, his heavy breathing slow and steady against her neck.
After what seemed like an eternity, Jon set her down gently, giving her ass a firm squeeze before letting her legs fall to the floor. Panting, Cersei attempted to catch her breath, her body slumped against the prince's chest.
"That was fantastic, my lady."
"Aye. It was." Cersei's previous elated state was disappearing as lucidity began to reclaim her mind. Still, even with as clarity came back to her, she found herself smiling.
As he pulled up his breeches, he regarded her with a sly smile, before suddenly raising his voice, "You have best fix yourself up quickly, my lady, before someone walks by."
Still somewhat breathless, Cersei slowly nodded. She straightened her back and pushed down her dress. As she smoothed out her wrinkled dress and pulled up her underclothes, she could feel his seed, warm and very thick, seeping from her aching cunt, running down her thighs like a great river. She would need to head to her chambers quickly to clean herself up.
I will also need to procure some moon tea.
She could not afford for his seed to quicken within her. She was already taking a big risk by fucking him. Much to her surprise however, unlike with Robert, she did not relish having to do so. A small part of her wondered if she even really wanted to. The risk was too much. Robert was no King, but he was a Great Lord. And while he was a fool, even he would realise what she had done if her child was born with purple eyes.
The scandal brought about should her child be born favouring their father would make the marriage between Prince Viserys and Princess Arianne seem quaint. It would destroy her house. It could even lead to rebellion.
But, a child born to the Prince of Dragonstone and herself would share the bloodlines of House Targaryen, House Stark and House Lannister. Three of the most powerful bloodlines in the world, all in one potent mix. Such potential deserved to be fulfilled, to be brought to life. Did she not deserve that?
Shaking her head, Cersei turned around and looked back at Jon, motioning to her back. "Could you please, my prince?"
He nodded. As he began lacing up the strings of her bodice, his fingers deft and nimble as he fixed her top, Cersei thought on what she had just happened. When she had woke up this morning, she had not thought she would be fucking the Prince of Dragonstone. How had it come to this? They were making light conversation, and not even several minutes later, he was deep within her, ploughing her furiously and taking her to heights she had not experienced in years.
The lioness licked her lips. Yes, it was true she had not planned on her tryst with the prince this morning. Every morning after however, if she had her way, that was to be a different story.
She did not love Jon. She did not even know him. So why did she dream of him? Why did she desire someone who she could never truly have? Was it the hunger in her making her act so reckless? Maybe it was. Regardless, she did not care. She made her decision.
When Jon was done, she straightened up her bodice, before turning around. Cersei stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest. She leaned her head forward and brushed her mouth against his ear, their bodies almost touching as she dropped her voice to a husky tone, "If I asked you to come to my chambers after dark, my prince, would that be something you would agree to?"
"Aye, it would," Jon ran a finger down her jaw. "And please, call me Jon."
"Very well...Jon," Cersei planted a kiss on his neck. "I eagerly await tonight."
"As do I."
Cersei left him and his wolf. As she climbed up the stairs and made the journey back her chambers, she released a sigh of content. Despite the ache of her loins, in spite of all the danger their liaison could bring, it had been well worth it.
She could never have Rhaegar. Only in her dreams would she ever have her silver prince. But, she could have his son. And for that, she was grateful, to both the old gods and the new.
"Well, look what we have here," With Ghost trailing close behind him, Prince Jon Targaryen made his way into his chambers, finding himself in the company of Ser Oswell Whent. The Black Bat of Harrenhal, a tall, lean, and brown-haired-and-eyed man of six-and-thirty, stood in the middle of the room near his table, adorned in his white cloak and intricate suit of white enamelled scale. A wide grin was plastered across his face.
"I see that you're quite merry. You must be, after fucking one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms," Oswell said, kneeling down to pet Ghost. "You did what every man in this realm wants to do. And what about me? While you're having fun plowing Cersei Lannister, I have to play guard duty, making sure no one passes through the twelfth floor while you are having fun. Thank the gods for Ghost. You know hard it was standing guard near that staircase and hearing her moaning and groaning as you fucked her? I thought you were trying to be discreet. It seems you wish for the whole city to hear."
Jon's shoulders slouched, embarrassed by the light chiding his guardian and close friend was giving him. He placed his hand on the back of his neck. "I was. My composure only slipped in a few instances. She was the one who could not control herself. My hands were busy holding her - I couldn't close her mouth to keep her quiet."
Oswell scoffed. "Excuses, excuses, excuses."
The prince rolled his eyes. "I was worried for a moment that you did not hear the signal. When I realised she meant to leave in haste, I had to raise my voice in order to say the phrase. Thankfully, she did not suspect a thing."
"That phrase was meant for when you were in her room. Could you not have simply waited a little while longer?" Oswell inquired. "I thought the plan was for her to bed you in her chambers, where there was little worry of being caught? I was to make sure you two weren't bothered by her husband or her father or her brother. Instead, imagine my surprise when I hear you fucking her by the staircase. The worst place in this castle to dally with a married woman. You should be thankful that no one came by."
Jon nodded. "I am grateful. But right there, I could not afford for her to change her mind. I said everything I needed to say to heighten her interest even further. Bloodraven made it clear to me of her capricious nature. Her desire was great in that moment - what if she decided in the next second to change her mind? I would have to try again later. Bloodraven also indicated that Cersei secretly wished for me to be rough and forceful. It was how she perceived me bedding her in her dreams. Besides...I will admit my lust was also quite high. She is still a very beautiful woman. I did not wish to wait any longer."
"Sometimes I forget that despite your maturity, in spite of the responsibility Rivers gave you, you are still a boy," Oswell said, getting up and moving to sit down at Jon's table. "When faced with the prospect of bedding a fair lady, you will do so without hesitation, damn the consequences. I thought Ros and the Mormonts calmed you down."
Jon chuckled. "Only a little bit."
Oswell shook his head, before his expression became serious. "So now what? Do you think it worked? Has the seed been sown? Has the bond been placed"
"It has been sown. And yes, the bond had been placed. Bloodraven indicated that she was at her most fertile today, so only time will tell if the seed will flower," Jon replied. "However...Cersei will most likely take moon tea out of caution. She hates Robert, but her paranoia over the appearance of any child she has with is far greater than her wish to humiliate and cuckold him. The bond between her and I is currently very weak. It will take some time before I am able to convince her to bear my child."
Oswell whistled. "The progress will have to wait then. It is all dependant on Cersei. I do not know whether you are one lucky bastard or a boy cursed with a near impossible task. And to think the reason Rivers advised her to be your first conquest was because he believed she would be the easiest."
Jon Targaryen sighed, casting his friend a faint smile. "No one said saving the realm from the Others would be easy."
I'm sure a lot of people have questions with that teaser at the end. What are Jon and Oswell talking about? Why are they acting like Jon sleeping with Cersei is a task? How is Bloodraven involved with Jon? Why is he involved? Most if not all will be explained in the next chapter.
I think some people mind wonder why Cersei isn't as authoritative, manipulative or demanding as she is in canon. Well, here she is no queen, only a Lady. A Lady of a powerful house, and one married to a powerful lord, but still a noblewoman. She is forced to be subservient to people she hates. She is still very arrogant, proud and vicious, but there is somewhat softer, more vulnerable side to her. Her marriage to Robert as well as Jaime's essential abandonment and the dislike of many noblewomen - particularly the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and her sister-in-law - of her has left her feeling isolated and alone. I'll try to touch on that in the future.
Thanks for reading. I don't really write that much, and this is my first time writing smut/porn. I didn't really try to take this too seriously, but I still wrote quite a lot. Let me know what you think.