Okay y'all, this is my version of Storm's End and it is vastly different so buckle up
enjoy this beautiful picture of Laenora that PhylliCheese made with AI. Obviously her eyes are purple but ai cant't be perfect lmao
"You are early, my love," Aemond said behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His hands rested on her bump as he kissed her neck.
"Is that your sword or are you just that excited to see me?" She smirked. She could feel his hardening erection pressing against her, not that she was complaining. It was hard to find time alone with him without the presence of guards, so she'd take him in the throne room if that's where they had privacy.
"You have Queensguard trailing you constantly. Plus, I'd be a lying man if I said I hadn't imagined fucking you on the throne. This past week I've been anxious to see you sit on it."
She smirked and turned to face him. "Wait right here, then."
She seated herself on the steel swords that made up the throne. It wasn't made for comfort, she could see herself already antsy to get off, but that could be because her pregnant state wasn't comfortable in a lot of seats.
Visenya leaned back on the throne and the weight of the role was weighing on her. She had the crown of the conqueror on her head, she was sitting on the throne.
She smirked at Aemond and slowly let her legs spread. "Kneel, before your queen."
Aemond was a man starved, and he practically crawled to her. She pressed her foot against his chest before he got any closer.
"Beg for it."
His brow rose, and his cock twitched with the dominance she was exerting. She was a queen now, she was his queen, and he would let her boss him around anywhere.
"Visenya Targaryen, ñuha jorrāelagon, kostilus ivestragī nyke sylutegon ao."
*My love, please let me taste you.
She tilted her head with a smirk. "Skoro syt should nyke ivestragī ao, valzȳrys?"
*Why should I let you, husband?
"Kesrio syt eman daor issare able naejot sylutegon se sweetness hen aōha orvorta isse iā week. Eman watched ao tepagon mirre aōha energy naejot se court se daor save mirre syt nyke. Gaomagon daor pendagon gaoman daor approve, iksā se olvie desirable skori wearing se pāletilla. Yn nyke dream hen aōha dōna moans se se ñuhoso aōha juices spill ilie hen aōha orvorta naejot ñuha ēngos."
* Because I have not been able to taste the sweetness of your cunt in a week. I have watched you give all your energy to the court and not save any for me. Do not think I do not approve, you are the most desirable when wearing the crown. But I dream of your sweet moans and the way your juices spill straight from your cunt to my tongue.
Visenya's eyelids fluttered and she nodded. "Then feast until your heart desires."
He wasted no time, kneeling in front of her and spreading her legs as far as he could. She could feel the shadow of his facial hair on her thighs, the past week exhausting them both too much to take care of trivial things - such as him shaving.
Visenya was careful with how hard she gripped the throne, not exactly desiring a sliced hand. Visenya clenched her eyes shut as she felt lick her folds, parting them so that he could lap up the slick that had formed at her entrance. He'd thrown foreplay aside, strictly desiring the taste of her cunt.
Aemond had never liked sweets as a child, he preferred the bitterness of lemon treats. Aegon had always said that he'd like cunt because the whores he fucked tasted tart. But not Visenya, she was sweet and Aemond couldn't get enough. He'd drink from her sweet pussy if an option were given to him.
She wrapped her thighs around his head, tightening them around his head to pull him closer - if that was even possible. His mouth worked quickly, they both knew there wasn't much time until people would arrive.
She was already so close, her drive for pleasure at an all-time high with the pregnancy. A week was the longest they had gone without, she usually was jumping him, pulling him off to a secret passageway, or touching him under the table.
And as she neared the end of the pregnancy, the easier it was to climax with little effort. Not that Aemond ever gave little effort, it just meant she couldn't enjoy his tongue for much longer before she was a moaning mess and he was sucking her dry.
He pulled away from her glistening cunt with a smirk and he pulled her dress back down and helped her look presentable.
"That was long overdue," She sighed, wiping sweat off her forehead.
"Sweet heavens, that was just a tease. When I get you alone tonight -"
The main doors opened as Rhaenys entered. "We need to call a small council meeting."
Visenya was on her feet in no time. She hoped her hair wasn't too disheveled. "What happened?"
"There has been news from Dragonstone. Come, everyone is gathering."
Aemond stood behind them as they walked, Rhaenys looping her arm with Visenya's. "Enjoy your youth while you can," She whispered.
Visenya's cheeks flushed bright pink. "Grandmother!"
"Do not fool me, Sweet Queen. I remember those days with Corlys. Gods, I felt like a queen myself, especially our first week as man and wife."
Visenya couldn't help her laugh. "No way. I do not remember you and Grandfather ever being handsy."
"Nothing kills drive like age. Plus, by the time you were growing, he and I were starting to drift apart. Laena was in Pentos, and we fought a lot over the matter of Laenor's children. But trust me, we once burned so bright. I am shocked you and Aemond do not have more children."
"When I am pregnant, we get nothing done," She mumbled.
"When I was pregnant with Laena, there were days we went at it seven times."
Visenya's jaw dropped. "Seven? Grandmother!"
Rhaenys laughed as they entered the council chambers. Lord Tyland was master of coin, Jasper was master of law, Orwyle was still Grand Maester, and Brella had been named master of whispers. Her family had been given land in the Stormlands and her family name had been cleared.
Jasper and Orwyle were still apprehensive after the death of the Greens, and Visenya did not trust them. Tyland had been faithful, and Brella was solely Visenya's, as was Rhaenys.
The Red Council.
And for now, they were out of a master of ships. Visenya had hoped to hear from her grandfather, but there had been no word. There had also been no word on where Ser Erryk was, but the Crown of Jaehaerys that Viserys wore had disappeared with him.
Lucerys, Daeron, and Aegon would sit on the meetings now, both being kept close to Visenya. Daeron and Luke were strong warriors that she felt safe with, along with her Commander of the Queensguard, Ser Arryk.
There was no use for Aegon except he made her laugh.
Visenya sat at the head of the table and Brella pulled out a piece of parchment with sorry eyes. "I think it best if I read it."
"Let me, Brella," Visenya frowned.
Brella handed her the small scroll and she opened it. It came from one of her spies, a trusted source.
"'Dear Lady Brella. Ser Erryk arrived on the island with the missing crown, informing Rhaenyra of the news. Upon hearing of her father's death and her daughter's treason, she entered early labor and lost her babe. It was a girl, and they named her -'"
Visenya stopped reading, her chest closing around her heart.
"My Queen -" Brella started.
Visenya shook her head. "'And they named her Visenya.'"
Aemond's hands clenched on the table and she heard scoffs from around the room.
"I knew it," Luke mumbled.
Visenya looked at her little brother. "What do you mean?"
"When I was younger and I came here, it was because of something Daemon and Mother said. They were calling you stupid and weak and that they needed a do-over. Daemon said they could just have another daughter and name her Visenya to make up for -"
"That's bullshit!" Daeron shouted.
"Weak?" Visenya smirked. "Hm."
"I can assure you, My Queen, no one has called you weak since your crowning," Tyland said.
"Maybe mad," Jasper scoffed.
Visenya tilted her head and looked at him. "Pardon?"
He rolled his eyes and looked around the table. "No one is going to say it? We plotted for years to make you queen and your first act was to kill the people that put you there."
"Clearly not all of them," she spoke. "Your job is to serve your King or Queen when you are on the council. Did the Hightowers truly serve the crown, or did they serve themselves? Because if Otto truly served Viserys, my mother would be sitting here instead."
"Who do you serve, Lord Jasper?" Aemond asked.
The room went silent as all eyes looked at Jasper. "We picked you because Aegon would have never been a good king, but no one wanted Rhaenyra."
"You didn't want a woman," Visenya responded.
"And why would that be such an awful thing? Women have never ruled, they have no business for it, and they haven't the stomach to do the things necessary. And not only that, you are pregnant and pregnant women -"
Visenya grabbed the Valyrian blade strapped to her hip and set it on the table. "Okay, if I were a man, what would a king do to someone so clearly insulting in on his own council? That is an open question for everyone."
Jasper's eyes went wide. Aegon let out a snicker, "Father always did threaten to take the tongue of any man that spoke out against his daughter."
"I think he should lose his tongue. But what if that drives his loyalty away and he starts plotting against you?" Daeron asked.
"That is true. You can't just kill everyone though, that would be madness," Brella smiled.
"So then the question should be, do I take his tongue, or does my sworn sword?"
"We wouldn't want you to overexert yourself, My Queen, you are heavy with child. There is no shame in letting a skilled warrior do it," Brella smirked.
Aemond was already on his feet, reaching for the Valyrian blade.
"No, no, I meant no offense!" Jasper panicked.
"Take the punishment like a man, own your words," Aemond said. "Daeron, come hold his head."
Daeron made his way over, holding the man's head while Aemond grabbed his tongue. Any time he tried to bite, Daeron brought his fist down on his nose. Visenya watched as Aemond cleanly sliced his tongue off, and placed it in front of Orwyle.
"You are the only other one we can not trust," Aemond frowned.
Orwyle looked down and back up. "Who would you replace us with?"
"A ruler should always have one of their siblings on their council. Daeron or Luke, does Master of Law sound fun? Because I already have a maester that is loyal to me."
"Then it sounds like you already have your answer, My Queen." Orwyle stood up. "I would like to leave back to the Citadel. I would like the same opportunity Ser Harold had when he left. I have done you no wrong and all I wish to do is continue my studies."
Visenya held her hands over her bump and nodded. "I suppose we could make that work, Maester Orwyle. But my same offer stands, if I find you on the wrong side of this war, you will not be met with the same mercy. Leave your chain of office for my next maester."
"I do honor you as my queen, but my loyalty to Queen Alicent ran deeper. I will acknowledge you over the treasonous queen, but there is just too much internal conflict for me to be the best council."
As much as she wanted to be angry, she respected his honesty and honor. She didn't believe him to be traitorous and knew that once he left, she wouldn't hear from him in a negative way.
"Ser Arryk, please escort Jasper to the Black Cells. Have Maester Munkun cauterize the wound first, though. I would hate an infection to kill him."
Orwyle, Ser Arryk, and Jasper left the room, leaving them to commence the original meeting. Visenya picked the scroll back up. She couldn't stomach reading about her dead sister again, she had to move on.
"'After the funeral, Daemon crowned Rhaenyra as Queen with her father's crown. She wants peace, it is Daemon whispering war into her ear. She will be sending envoys to the Lords and Ladies to ask for their fealty. She wants to send Jacaerys to Storm's End to sway his allegiance. Lord Corlys has also arrived and -'"
Visenya looked up at her Grandmother, a frown on both of their faces. "Go on, I can handle it," Rhaenys spoke.
"'Lord Corlys, despite the new title of his wife, bent the knee to Rhaenyra.' That is all of the letter." Visenya slammed her fist into the table with a frown. "He has the largest fleet. I was hoping he would be ours if he knew."
"My Lord husband has no love for treason, and he will see this as such. He never believed Rhaenyra was involved in the death of our son. He sees her as innocent as her own father did."
"There is a more uplifting letter, Your Grace, from the North," Brella smiled, looking at Daeron.
Visenya caught that and took the scroll. After reading it, she saw why Brella was looking at Daeron. "Lord Stark has agreed to support us."
Rhaenys leaned forward. "At what cost?"
"A promise I made. That I would legitimize his bastard sister and marry her to Daeron."
Daeron looked up and at Brella, then Visenya. "How soon?"
"If Rhaenyra is sending envoys, they will soon go to the North. We must act fast. He said he shall travel here with her after I send a formal invitation. So the North is ours."
"I think we should worry about Borros," Rhaenys said. "You should send Lucerys there as a reminder of the bond. Maybe send Aerion with him. Borros needs to be reminded that it was you who allowed him to be the grandfather to a silver-haired Targaryen prince."
Visenya looked between Lucerys and Daeron. "No, I will send Daeron. I think a confrontation between Luke and Jace would be too difficult. Daeron knows that my love extends to all my brothers and he will remind my brother that I do not wish to harm him. All I want is Daemon's head on a platter. I would even be willing to pardon my mother and allow her to reside on Dragonstone if she wished. I do not want war, but I will do it if forced."
"As you wish, My Queen," Daeron mumbled. She really needed him away from Brella. She felt awful, she knew they loved one another, but Daeron agreed to the arrangement. And the North could be their most important ally, and it would take a lot to make a Stark break a twenty-year oath.
-
"I love you," Daeron whispered against her lips, unable to part himself from Brella.
"You will be back within a day. And then you will have to marry Sara Snow," She whispered, tears reflecting off her cheeks. "We should have run away when you asked the first time."
"Visenya needs us, and she needs me to do this for her. Please, don't leave me when she arrives."
"Daeron, I am a lady now, I can't be your whore. Promise you will be faithful to her. You owe her that, Daeron."
He closed his eyes and took a step back. "I will never love her, Brel. She will never be you."
"I can't argue this with you, Daeron, I will never be a whore to a married man."
Brella walked away from him, leaving him next to Tessarion alone in the Dragon Pit. He mounted his dragon with a frown, unable to clear his mind. He had a duty to Sara Snow, but his heart was Brella's. She was a lady now, she was a member of the Queen's council. He could marry her, and his mother wasn't there to stop them.
A storm was starting as he landed, something Tessarion wasn't used to. She grew fussy and snarled at the guards that approached. He got off of his Blue Beauty and faced them.
"I come as a messenger for Queen Visenya. I have a message for Lord Borros."
He was allowed inside his meeting hall and waited for the fat lord to take his place. "Greetings, Prince Daeron. I hope your trip was not too difficult."
"Not at all, Lord Borros. Lucerys send his regards, but the queen had other tasks for him, he is the newly appoint Master of Laws." It was another decision Visenya made to make Lord Borros feel honored. His daughter was married to a Targaryen, she bore a Targaryen son, and her Targaryen husband sat the Queen's council.
"I trust that is what you are here to discuss, hm? This business about the realm currently having two Queens?"
"Yes, Lord Borros. Queen Visenya, the rightful queen, was crowned before the masses by a Septon of the Faith. My half-sister was crowned by her husband with no true septon. In the eyes of the realm and the faith that drives Westeros, she is Queen. Rhaenyra will send envoys to sway every lord, but the rightful Queen shall always keep her word."
Lord Borros leaned back on his throne and tilted his head. "Are you hear to marry one of my daughters?"
"I am afraid not, for I am betrothed. But her Grace had big plans that depend on future events. She believes your daughter is with child again. If Lucerys and Ellyn have a girl, she would betroth her to her heir, Maegor. Your blood would carry on."
This seemed to please the fat lord. "My daughter is again pregnant?"
Daeron nodded. "Just waiting on the Maester's confirmation."
Lord Borros clapped with joy. "About time. Little Aerion was in need of a sibling."
"Precisely. Shall I have your allegiance on my return to the capital?" Daeron asked. He was done with the stupid lord, he couldn't stand him.
"Of course. This alliance has always been in the best interest of my house."
"Lord Borros, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon has arrived on behalf of Rhaenyra Targaryen," A guard called.
Jace walked through moments later, cocky and ready to go. "That's Queen Rhaenyra to you, fool. She has sent me with terms to remind you who your father pledged himself to. You would do best to remember that."
Daeron scoffed as Lord Borros became enraged. If Jace had anything to learn, it was how to approach people. Borros was proud and did not do well when feeling threatened.
"Excuse me, boy, you best show respect to the lord of the home you prance through. My father may have made one vow, but I made another. So go home, pup, and tell your bitch mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not just some dog to be called."
Jace glared. "I will take your message to the rightful Queen."
Daeron watched him turn to leave and he smirked until Visenya's voice was ringing in his ears. Daeron knows that my love extends to all my brothers and he will remind my brother that I do not wish to harm him.
He had to, for Visenya. "Excuse me, My Lord, I must converse with my nephew."
Daeron ran out of the hall until he caught up with Jace outside. "Nephew!"
"I will not fight you! I only came as an envoy, not a warrior."
Daeron rolled his eyes. "I do not wish to fight you, half-wit. Visenya has a message for you alone, she thought I might see you."
Jace crossed his arms. "I am listening."
"Visenya loves you, Jacaerys, she does not wish any of her brothers harm. You have to search in your heart and know that Daemon has been nothing but awful to her. Your mother passed her as heir because she was a girl, a total hypocritical move considering everything your mother fought for. They named your dead sister Visenya! Think for yourself for once and tell me she doesn't have a right to be angry."
"She doesn't want war?" Jace asked after a few moments of silence.
"No! She wanted peace. All she wants is Daemon. She wants you on her council, Jacaerys. She would allow your mother to be Princess of Dragonstone and all your brothers could be free of the burden of war."
Daeron noticed him wringing his hands, a nervous habit that seemed to run between siblings. All Visenya ever did was wring her hands or twirl her rings. He suddenly felt bad for them, they could have been such close siblings. Daeron was thankful for his own brothers. Aegon and Aemond were not perfect, but he knew if asked or if they were in danger, they would all die for one another, they would fight for each other.
"I will take these terms to my mother. But will you do something for me?" Jace asked, his tone softening.
"Depends."
"Please tell her I did not like the idea of them naming the babe Visenya, I did not like it one bit."
Daeron placed a hand on his shoulder. "You might have the chance to tell her yourself."
Jace nodded and left to mount Vermax, taking off for Dragonstone. It was a calm ride back to the island and when he landed, he was met by Daemon. He needed to get to his mother, he knew his mother wanted peace and would be pleased by Visenya's offer.
"How did it go?" Daemon asked.
"I need to find mother, Visenya sent terms through Daeron."
Daemon grabbed his arm. "What sort of terms, boy?"
"Peaceful ones, ones that Mother would consider."
Jace watched rage fill Daemon's eyes. He nodded and let Jace walk ahead of him, but not for long.
Because a knife was shoved right in his lower back.
"I cannot let you take those terms."
"W-What?" Jace gasped, blood spilling from his mouth.
"You shall either die or slip in a coma, either way, I will tell her Daeron did this. You are doing me an honor by helping."
Jace's body was screaming in pain as the betrayal sunk in. Visenya and Luke were right all along. Jace was just another pawn in Daemon's goal for war.
And as he started to slip away, he realized everything was about to go to madness.
Over a lie.
Because nothing would stop Daemon from seeing his wife on the throne.
Not even her own children.
If you have not gotten the memo now that Daemon is the villain, where you been lmao. I am both excited and scared to share this because it is something new I have never seen before, and I am sure after reading so many Aemond fanfics, it is nice to see new things. I am also worried cuz some of y'all rly don't like it when I go way off-canon.