A Song of Promises

Chapter 4

It took several hours of crying, pleading, and threats to convince Daemon to leave without incident and join her on the ship back to Dragonstone.

They largely avoided one another, keeping to themselves on opposite sides of the deck. Lucerys picked up on the fissure between them and attempted to console her while her husband was left alone to sulk.

"Whatever it was," said Luke, steadily averting his eyes from the bruises on her neck, "It cannot last for long, mother." They argued almost as often as she took his cock, but never so openly that her son had felt compelled to cheer her.

She tightened the collar on her dress with a broach, blocking the worst of the welts from view. She said nothing, only grasped for his hand and brought it to her sternum with a weak smile.

What she and Daemon shared was...indescribable. Though she had known true love with Harwin, deeper still was the connection to her uncle. He was the echo that answered her voice in a cave, the reflection of herself that stared back in the mirror. Together they were dawn and night, ember and flame. Loving Daemon was the symbiotic exchange that had existed before the Doom and would continue well beyond the last days of the world.

Their connection was primal, inexplicable, yet predictable in its ways. Like the breaking of a wave, they often crashed to pull apart again and repeat.

Sweet boy, she thinks, squeezing his fingers. You have no idea.

When they were home she announced that she would retire to their quarters, insistent that she was exhausted despite the short length of their journey. She sent away the servants, leaving word to have their things stalled at port, and encouraged the boys to fly or train - whichever would best keep them occupied until supper. Her husband followed closely behind, his gaze burning holes in her back.

She ignored Daemon's presence, knowing it would agitate him to be disregarded when he clearly wished to speak with her. Inside their room she undressed to her chemise, letting her gown fall with a whisper to the floor before moving to step outside it. He stalked around her with hungry eyes, gaze riveted to her lips, breasts, and belly as he untied his sword and daggers and sat them near the bedside.

No matter where she walked across the room he pursued her, keeping so close to her back that his shadow dwarfed her completely. He wanted her attention desperately, but she refused to give it. When she came to a stop he dared to move even closer, his hard cock brushing her ass as he shifted her long silken hair aside to place chaste kisses along the naked curve of her shoulder.

His arms snaked around her waist, coming to rest heavily on her swollen stomach before rubbing it in small, soothing circles. "My beautiful wife," he sighed, burying his head in the crook of her neck. He breathed in deep the scent of her hair and rubbed his cheek against her skin. "What am I going to do with you?"

For him it was nearly an apology, though the words 'I'm sorry' had never left his lips as long as she'd known him. She remained silent, refusing to reciprocate his attentions despite being sorely tempted by his sweetness. He tutted and gently lifted up from the bottom of her belly, cradling the mound of her pregnancy between his hands like a globe. She inhaled deeply, relief flooding her as the weight of its carriage was relieved from the small of her back. She leaned against him at last and rested her head on his shoulder, giving in to the comfort of his closeness as she closed her eyes.

He slowly released the weight in his hands as she exhaled.

"Kessa tepagon ao ziry mirre se mazverdagon nyke daorun isse aōha laesi," he said quietly in Valyrian. He will give you everything and make me nothing in your eyes.