Nightmare

Chapter 15

Her children were waiting for her.

Fresh and bathed, they sat together on her and Rolf's bed, awaiting their usual storytime. So old they were getting, and still they would not be denied an hour or two of peaceful time together, where none could disrupt them. It was familytime, where their only duty was to each other. She liked that they had that, and wondered if her mother would have done the same with her and her brothers if she'd lived to raise them.

While Bertram read aloud from A History of Dragons: The Old Beasts and New, she braided Gemma's clean curls while Rolf brushed Alyssa's silky locks. Cliff and Aenar entertained themselves standing, with a sword-less and shoe-less mock battle, miming what their swords would do if they had them in hand.

She felt Gemma leaning sleepily, and one by one they escorted the children to their rooms, kissing them on the foreheads as they tucked them into bed. Silence carried through High Tide once Rolf and Daenys slipped back to their room.

It was too quiet for her tastes, and equally as dreary for Rolf. She'd turned to face him, staring at him through the dark, until he leaned over and kissed her lips, his hand resting against her hip. Even at the age of two-and-forty, Daenys had not lost her energy when it came to showing her husband love. She crawled onto him, kissing him fervently as he lifted her nightgown, pulling his breeches down to push himself into her.

Daenys had never thought that she would like a man so much. As a young girl, she'd have done everything to avoid being married to one. Gareth Tyrell had served his purpose for her pleasure, but she couldn't say she had liked him enough to have wanted to have this many children with him. If she'd had to, she would have given him an heir and a spare and no more.

Yet with Rolf, she often wished she'd have been younger when she met him. Perhaps if they'd met the year of the Great Council, when they'd been in close proximity but she hadn't known he was admiring her from afar. She might've married him when Viserys ascended the Iron Throne, and brought Rolf to live with them from early on. Her own mother had wanted to give Baelon twenty sons, and Daenys admittedly might've given Rolf much more than five children if she'd been in the prime years of her youth.

She liked seeing him as a father, still firm with their children but always lending his ear and never letting them forget that he would always support and protect them. Not once had he ever been too busy to hear Bertram's many facts, to teach Cliff a new skill, to help Gemma in her art projects, to listen to Alyssa's complaints, or to discuss with Aenar all the things a growing boy was coming to wonder about the world.

"Gods." Rolf threw his head back as he climaxed, gripping her hips bruisingly tight. "If you'd told me when I was a young man that we'd one day be married with five children... I'd not have believed you."

She continued to undulate her hips, seeking her own climax, and let out a laugh. "I still remember how you revealed yourself as my secret admirer. I could scarce believe it, either." She leaned down to whisper in his ear, but kissed his jaw first, "I am not too old. Perhaps we could have another babe. Would you like that, my love?"

He let out a whimper– he often did, never one to conceal the noises she brought out of him. She'd always liked how he could be submissive with her, save for moments where he became upset enough to pin her down as if he were the dragon. "I would like that only if you would," murmured Rolf, but she could feel him twitching within her as if the idea reanimated him. "I can imagine–"

There was a hard tap on the door. Daenys slowed to a stop, Rolf whining in protest. "Who is it?" called Daenys, smirking down at Rolf to tease him.

"Mother, I need to speak with you."