The Path to Freedom, a HOTD Fanfic

Chapter 6

Rhaeneya, with Daemon, watched her father with baited breath as he slowly began to stir. The king quickly awoke, much to Rhaenyra's relief. Viserys stayed very much his obstinate self, Daemon holding him as he immediately tried to rustle out of bed.

"I said I'm fine!" Viserys shouted in protest. "It's not a Targaryen wedding without a bit of excitement!"

"Please get some rest, at least," said Rhaenyra, drying her eyes. "I'm not ready for you to go."

As Viserys' waived his arms against Damien, she noticed, as the sleeves fell, bandages on his lower arms. Her eyes widened as she grew concerned. Has he been ill without anyone's knowledge?

Viserys caught her stare and instantly waved her off. "It's nothing. Just a cut from that damn throne."

Rhaenyra's swallowed her worry and glanced down at her own bandages,  obtained from the dagger on that terrible night. Criston told her she was lucky -- a knife that sharp could have rendered her hand unusable. She chilled at the idea of such a blade piercing his heart.

The blades of the iron throne, centuries later, were still incredibly sharp. Would she carry more scars as queen? Will the throne also slice her apart?

"Lucky for you I'm not going anywhere," said Viserys, breaking her deep thoughts. He leaned foward, placing a hand on hers and said, "I promise. Go be with your husband."

"Go on," said Daemon, "I'll stay with him."

Rhaeneya gave one more look at her father, and walked out to resume the feast.

Back at the grand hall,  Cole brothers, along with Harwin, were spinning pieces of Criston's clothes over their heads, cheering.

Rhaeneya placed her hands on her hips. "Ruin my dress and I'll have you all gelded."

Harwin, like at her last wedding, hoisted Rhaenyra up over his head, the rest of her body supported by the rest. She couldn't help but laugh as she was carried to the bed chambers.

"I can get the door myself, thank you!" Rhaeneya slipped to the ground, ignoring the jeers as she slipped through the door. Criston stood by the bed, naked, a pillow over his crotch.

Rhaenyra burst out laughing. "Oh, my poor husband."

Criston sighed in relief, throwing the pillow on the bed. Raenyra eyed her new groom in his naked glory. She bit her lip in nervous anticipation. She resisted the urge to slap herself awake from this dream.

The drunken singing outside threatened to ruin the moment. Rhaenyra turned to open the door again, shouting, "Get lost, all of you!" Slamming the door, she sighed. "Honestly!"

"Can't help but feel a bit violated," Criston joked.

Keeping her back to him she teased Criston some more, saying dramatically, "My poor, violated husband!" She moved her long hair across her shoulder, exposing the buttons of her dress to Criston.

He obliged, eyes filled with hunger, and as he approached to remove the impending fabric. Rhaenyra shuddered at his gentle touch, wanting him to just rip the dress in two. But he was slow and tender, the heat of his breath tingling across her neck and shoulders.

"What was that you called me?" Criston whispered huskily.

"Hmm, my husband."

"Say it again," he begged, kissing the exposed bits of her skin. She moaned, fingers through his thick hair. Her spine tingled, as with every exposed inch, he ran his fingers along her skin. His touch was soft for a warrior.

"Hm, my husband," Rhaeneya purred, "who gets to make honorable love to me tonight."

Criston scoffed as he slipped his hands under the unbuttoned dress, cupping her breasts. The silken fabric fell to the floor. Her breath hitched as he played with her nipples, grazing the sensitive buds with his thumbs. He moaned in the crook of her neck as she closed the gap between them, nestling his erection between the cheeks of her ass.