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She had a lonely childhood, growing up. The Red Keep was a magnificent castle in all of its splendor, with winding halls, ornately decorated chambers, and so full of delights that any child would be grateful to grow up within its walls, but when her memories take her back to those lonely times in her childhood all she remembers are empty rooms and quiet hallways. Helaena is no fool, she recognizes the power and privilege she possesses as a princess of the realm, but still many of the early memories of her childhood are mired in a melancholy which makes revisiting them a painful experience. The Red Keep felt like a gilded prison; beautiful to behold, terrible to be trapped in. As a small girl she had no friends of her own age save her brothers and nephews, but as they got older she saw them less frequently. Aegon and Aemond were permitted to train and play in the yard, race in the halls, roughhouse in their chambers - she was not. When she chased after her brothers she was chastised, told a princess doesn’t run, doesn’t wrestle, doesn’t make a fool of herself. As they grew older the divide was made even more apparent - she saw less of her brothers, less of her nephews, less of everyone.
“A princess must take great measures to guard her virtue.” Her mother would say each time Helaena questioned why her only companions were maids and ladies in waiting - questioned why Aegon and Aemond had children their own age to play games in the garden with while Helaena was expected to be content with maids and ladies in waiting often twice her age. Part of her still wonders if her mother did this to protect her in some odd way, fearing her only daughter would be mocked due to her odd and eccentric fascinations.
It became more bearable, just barely, as Helaena grew older. She allowed her personal studies to occupy her time in lieu of the companionship she craved, focusing her attention instead on the intricacies of the Valyrian language, prophecy, histories, and her utmost fixation: bugs. She knows it is odd, another abnormal interest that causes lords and ladies to look at her with pity and disgust, but she feels a kindred connection with every little insect she comes across. Mayhaps it was because they, like she, are also misunderstood - looked upon with derision and fear by those who simply refuse to take time to understand. Yes the dragonfly with its intricate clear wings and memorizing blue and green body would fly through the air violently if you attempted to catch it, thrashing around in fear before finding some foliage to hide in, but if you are careful, and gentle, and patient - you can bring your finger up to it and sometimes, sometimes - it will crawl onto you. When her mother would look at her with disappointment after being overwhelmed at court, or her maids would sigh in exasperation when she would refuse them touching her feet, a hurt would make itself known in her heart, and she would feel as though she was a dragonfly being chased in a garden.
Just be patient with me . She would think. Just be gentle with me .
It is different now though, with King’s Landing and the Red Keep so full of Targaryens that they are almost out of chambers to house them all in. It is no longer just her brothers and nephews, but now her cousins too. Ladies Baela and Rhaena are fierce in everything they do, a testament to their father being the rogue prince and their mother having claimed the largest dragon still alive. They love fiercely, argue fiercely, dance fiercely - everything done with an all encompassing zest for life and adventure. When they first came to King’s Landing, years ago, Helaena was intimidated by them, worried that what her family said about her was true and that she was too dull, too boring, too odd for their attention. Her worries were cast to the side however one day when the twins came upon her crouched in the gardens, studying a large tree snake which she had found basking in the sun. Helaena was so absorbed in studying the bright green scales of the gentle serpent that she nearly jumped in fright when the sisters made themselves known. They asked her if she was not afraid, and smiled when said no.
“Would be a fool to fear this little fellow when I have braved Dreamfyre’s bad moods.” Helaena had said, lips turning upward at the sisters’ laughs. It was a nice feeling, she thought, to be laughed with and not at .
“Oh we will be fast friends .” Baela clapped, beckoning to hold the green snake herself. “ Fast friends indeed .”
And Baela’s words were true. The twins quickly absorbed Helaena into a variety of their activities, and joined her on her own. They would take tea in her chambers once a sennight, visit the dragon pit together, hunt for bugs and critters, attend lessons, and even sneak into the kitchens late at night in stealthy quests for sweets and pastries. It was with them that she first started to truly understand the joys of friendship and girlhood, truly understanding what was robbed of her in her childhood. During her moods and fits, when a dress was bothering her or she became inundated by the sycophants at court, it was Baela and Rhaena who would calm her, secret her away to her chambers or some quiet alcove for cool water and mayhaps a rest.
It was their boldness, too, which inspired her to pursue Jacaerys with such vigor, such abandon. One night, over watered wine and honeyed tarts, the trio were chatting idly about some recent arrival of young knights when Helaena made her confession.
“The Fossoway, what is his name - Branston? He is not hideous to look at. ” Rhaena said, sipping her wine and twirling her finger around a lock of silver hair.
“Brandon. ” Baela corrected, her face alight with mirth. “Please spare me the pain sister, tell me you do not wish for a taste of glory from the good ser. ”
Helaena, rather inelegantly, had snorted into her glass. She regretted the action instantly however, as like a shark in water Rhaena’s eyes turned to her.
“I know the princess is not laughing, who apparently has never seen a man she fancies. I wonder, dear Helaena, if your hunger is for a different flavor. ” Rhaena teased, causing her sister to laugh.
Helaena blushed, worrying the neckline of her dress as she twirled the wine in her glass in an effort to feign nonchalance - she was never a good mummer, though. The truth is there was a man she had taken note of as of late, a man with kind eyes that look like the leaves of Fall and wild brown curls she wished to sink her hands into.
“My taste is not for apples, I assure you. ” Helaena answered, but this was not enough to stop the good natured probing of the twins, for they smelled blood in the water.
“But you do have a taste then?” Baela inquired.
Helaena nodded, a slow thing. She was mortified at the concept of admitting something so personal, something her mother would surely disapprove of, but gods above she wanted to give voice to her growing desire. It pulsed within her, a truth begging to be freed.
The two shrieked with glee, this being the first time Helaena had ever openly admitted interest in someone. It was a momentous occasion, from their perspective at least.
“Oh pray tell, who?” Rhaena asked. “The Tully squire? Or the Rosby? Who?”
“Don't overwhelm her, Rhaena. Give her a moment .” Baela chided, gently. She did not want to overwhelm Helaena, for which she was grateful, but still her eyes still shined with interest.
Helaena stayed silent, torturing her dear friends as if she would stay mute forever and enjoying their impatient faces, before speaking. “Jacaerys is quite comely .” She admitted, as though it was a confession at the Sept.
Once again, silence. Helaena's heart quickened with worry, fear causing a tightness in her chest at the lack of reaction. Am I surely so foolish? she wondered. Have I misstepped because they are so close to him, and now insulted?
Quickly though her thoughts were interrupted by peals of laughter, with Baela throwing her head back into the floor pillow with amusement and Rhaena wrapping Helaena in a tight embrace.
“It's like the stories!” Rhaena giggled. “A prince and a princess; their families feud yet their love grows!”
At her words, Helaena blushed furiously, violet eyes widening in alarm. She nearly sputtered on her wine, face hot, now intent on looking anywhere but at the sisters. “ Jacaerys doesn't… ” Helaena swallowed dryly “...we don't .”
Baela hummed from her place on the floor, nested on the great throw pillows like a dragon on heaps of gold. “I believe your tastes are reciprocated, Helaena .”
And so they told her then, that night, of Jacaerys’ longing looks and frequent questions about her. He would inquire to the twins about her interests, what foods she liked, everything. The sisters assured her that they betrayed nothing of her confidence, telling Jacaerys no secrets shared to them, and only spoke on appropriate matters.
“He admires you. ” Baela told her. “He finds you very beautiful, obviously - he has eyes after all, but he also says you were close as children and misses your friendship.”
Helaena nodded, and told Baela and Rhaena of her and Jacerys playing in the gardens of the Red Keep when they were younger. He would climb trees to get beetles for her, and she would braid his hair before his training with ser Criston to keep his brown locks out of his face.
“I know how to braid my hair. ” He had admitted one day, sitting in front of her with his face to the blue sky. “I just like you doing it. ”
But that was before. Before his voice grew deep, before the swell of her breasts, before adulthood changed everything.
After that night and Helaena’s confession, Baela and Rhaena took every moment they could to bring Helaena and Jacaerys together. If they went for a walk in the gardens, they would invite him. If they knew he was at the dragon pit, they would inform Helaena and ask if she would like to go. It was in those moments over a period of years that Helaena and Jacaerys’ friendship rekindled, and grew into something more.
And now, a fortnight after it all came to a culmination and they laid together, Helaena found herself growing increasingly frustrated. By The Mother's mercy (her mother's mercy, most likely) she was still allowed to see Jacaerys, though the visits were always supervised by handmaidens and had to be kept short, but as time progressed Helaena found these visits less and less fulfilling. Stolen looks and honeyed words in the presence of maids and guards did little to quell the ache in her heart at his absence. They were not even permitted to sit on the same bench in the gardens, let alone touch (her mother was less than pleased when the maids informed her of Jacaerys kissing Helaena's hand that morning he found her observing the butterfly).
I’ve taken a piece of you, and I want more.
It is one afternoon when she voices these frustrations to Rhaena. They are watching the sparring in the training yard, looking down from their positions on a balcony. The sun has passed its zenith for the day, and as it nears setting there is a promise in the air of a cool night to offset the misery of this sweltering day. Below them Jacaerys and his brothers cross blunted swords with knights and squires, and Baela shoots her crossbow at straw stuffed dummies. The yard is quickly emptying, many seeking a bath and a flagon of ale after training. Helaena watches Jacaerys’ form as he spars, her mind returning to that night they shared not long ago. The training armor which hangs loosely from his shoulders obfuscates his form, but her memory serves her well and she thinks on his lean and muscled body. She feels a tight cord pull in her stomach, a familiar haze fogging her brain. Her skin begins to feel hot, and her heart, unbidden, quickens in pace. Helaena takes a steady breath before speaking.
“Rhaena.” She begins. “May I ask you something?”
Rhaena hums an affirmation, watching with a smile as her sister lets loose a bolt into a straw dummy’s head.
“It is rather personal.” Helaena says, hoping for her full attention.
Rhaena turns to her, a gentle smile on her lips. “Of course Helaena. What do you need?”
Helaena licked her lips, feeling the frustration pool in her stomach. “Since Jacaerys and I…” she made a motion with her eyes to insinuate their coupling lest she speak it out loud “...I have been feeling frustrated.”
“Frustrated?” Rhaena asks, a curious tilt to her voice.
“It is difficult to describe.” She confesses. “I have felt it before as well, though lately it has been unbearable.”
“Describe the feeling to me.”
The idea of describing this feeling terrifies her, partly because she does not fully understand it, but also because she knows she is voicing something that feels wrong - sinful. Something her septa would frown at and inform her mother of.
“I bid you, do not laugh.”
“Helaena! Of course I will not laugh.”
“I have been discomfited, as of late. I feel flushed, and my heart flutters. My stomach feels tense sometimes too.” Helaena admits, feeling the heat creep up her neck. She is sure her skin is fully flushed now, both from the heat of the day and the embarrassment.
Rhaena hums. There is something playful in her eyes. “How long have you been feeling this way?”
“A long time. The bouts come and go, though it has gotten worse recently as I mentioned.”
“Do you have any other symptoms that go along with these feelings?”
Helaena’s throat is dry, unsure what to say, unsure how much information is too much.
“Yes, but I do not wish to speak them aloud.”
“That’s okay. Do you feel any pain?”
No, the opposite in fact, if I close my legs too tightly the pleasure is unbearable and my body shakes.
“No. No pain.” Helaena gulps. "No pain at all.”
Rhaena hums again. Her eyes are still playful, but there is a gentle understanding in them now. “Have you tried to take care of this feeling? At night, mayhaps?”
“Yes, but…” she starts, but the words escape her. Should she tell Rhaena that her fingers no longer satisfy her? That when she awakes frustrated and panting she craves Jacaerys, not her own hands?
“The feeling persists.” Rhaena finishes for her. “Mayhaps it is silenced for a moment, but it returns shortly?”
Helaena feels the weight dissipate from her shoulders. She is still flushed, heart still pacing quickly, but a small smile forms on her lips and she nods. She knew Rhaena would understand and not judge her for it.
“Yes.” She says. “Yes, exactly.”
Rhaena nods, taking a moment before speaking again as if planning her words. “Let me begin by saying everything you are feeling is normal, healthy. Your septa would disagree, mayhaps, but I care little for her opinion on the matter. No offense meant, of course.”
“None taken.” Helaena laughs, shaking her head.
“What you are feeling is merely an…” Rhaena turns her head, slightly, in thought. “...intense arousal.”
Helaena wonders if the stone below her feet could absorb her, wonders if the heat of the sun or her own embarrassment will melt her first.
“I do not mean to embarrass you.” Rhaena says, noticing the alarmed expression on Helaena’s face. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, even. Again: what you are feeling is normal, I implore you to believe me.”
Helaena gives a shaky nod, urging Rhaena to continue.
“I imagine you have had these feelings before, and mayhaps they centered around a certain prince?”
Gods - old, new, red, drowned, take me now.
Helaena nods again.
“And now that certain…events…have transpired with this prince, you can no longer…manage these urges as you once could?”
“Yes.” Helaena affirms.
“Then it is exactly as I said. Men have urges, but so do we, though they are loath to admit it. You have experienced something you enjoy greatly, something meant to be enjoyed greatly, and now you crave it.”
Helaena says nothing, instead turning her attention to the almost empty yard. Only Jacaerys, Baela, and a few others remain, but swords are being hung on racks and crossbow bolts are being collected from dummies.
“Do you remember when you rode Dreamfyre for the first time?” Rhaena asks.
Helaena nods, smiling in full now at the memory. The wind in her hair, the view of the lakes, trees, and rivers from the sky, and how close the moon and stars feel above the clouds at night. “Yes, it was spectacular.”
“As it was for me, on my first flight with Morning. When I soar the clouds with her, nothing compares. Now that is not to say the view from a tower, or some high mountain, cannot be pleasant, but truly nothing in the world compares to that feeling of riding a dragon.” Rhaena puts a gentle hand on Helaena’s shoulder. “It is similar in acts of love, nothing can quench your thirst for the real thing once you have tasted it.”
“I understand, thank you Rhaena.”
“I fear metaphors are not my strong suit. I hope I was of some help.”
Helaena smiles, reaching out to Rhaena for a hug. “You were very helpful, dear friend, for giving words to these feelings I struggle with.”
“What agony! Did I miss a moment?” Baela teases from behind, slowly making her way up the stone steps from the training yard. She is beaming as she approaches them, flushed and sweaty from her time in the yard.
“You did, sweet sister, too enthralled with your crossbow to converse with us.” Rhaena quips. “How was it?”
“Like any day.” Baela shrugs. “Straw soldiers make for easy targets, and they are much quieter than men of flesh.”
Rhaena smiles wickedly, her eyes dancing from her sister to Helaena. “It is a matter of flesh which we were just speaking of.”
“Oh? Do tell!”
Rhaena’s eyes beseech Helaena, asking quietly for permission. She knows if she refuses, Rhaena would drop it, and Baela would accept with little argument, but the thought of keeping anything secret from Baela does not sit well with Helaena. She nods, acquiescing. Rhaena, excitedly, fills Baela in on their talk, and once again Helaena flushes with a mix of embarrassment and delight. It is nice to share this with them, to be so open and honest and get nothing but acceptance in return. Baela laughs a bit before nodding along with Rhaena about how normal it all is. Helaena feels the anxiety wane from her heart, knowing that she is sane, that what she is feeling is normal and not wicked.
“She speaks truly Helaena, this is all very normal. Seven Heavens, a blessing even! Many women cannot stand their betrothed, yet here you are grappling with lust for your own.” Baela teases, voice light with gaiety.
“Many women do not claim their own betrothed.” Rhaena murmurs, looking to the blue sky in innocence upon seeing Helaena’s playful glare.
Baela laughs, a full easy thing, nodding her head. “Yes, well, who ever said that Valyrian women were like any other? Once you ride a dragon, what is it to ride a man?”
“Baela!” Rhaena chides, though she too laughs with ease. Helaena does too, and like most days with the two she finds her cheeks growing strained from laughter.
They go silent for a moment, enjoying the setting sun and light breeze. While Helaena feels better, no longer anxious with shame, the feeling of frustration still sits coiled in her stomach like a viper ready to strike.
“You know…” Baela begins, her voice holding that edge which means what follows will be some plot, though it is too late to dragon ride and too early to raid the kitchens. “...the best way to satisfy some hungers is to fill them.”
“If only it was that easy.” Helaena mumbles. “My ladies in waiting do not even allow me to sit next to Jacaerys, let alone touch him.”
“Curious, for I do not see your ladies in waiting here.” Baela says, making a show of looking around. “In fact, I believe we bid them farewell some hours ago before promising to escort you for the rest of the day.”
“I believe you are correct, sister.” Rhaena says, a smile evident in her voice.
“I also believe that Jacaerys is still in the armory below, changing out of his training armor most likely.”
“Alone?” Helaena asks, mouth dry as temptation flares within her. He is so close, close to her and far from prying eyes, mere steps down these stone stairs and only inches of a wooden door stands between them.
“Alone.” Baela confirms.
A moment of silence - a pause really, barely a second.
“If I recall, I had a matter most urgent to speak with the prince about. Regarding our future wedding, of course.”
“Of course.” Baela says, voice feigning seriousness.
“I can escort you, princess Helaena.” Rhaena says, stepping forward and interlocking their elbows.
“And what am I, chopped liver?” Baela asks in mock hurt. “Am I not worthy to escort the princess?”
Rhaena wrinkled her nose, already leading Helaena down the stone steps to the training yard. “I find you worthy of a bath, and in need of one desperately.”
Baela laughed, waving the two away. She called something back, causing Rhaena to laugh too, but Helaena could not hear them over the pounding in her ears as they stepped off the last stone stair and onto the dirt of the yard. It takes an eternity, but really no time at all, for the two to cross and reach the large wooden door of the armory. Helaena’s heart threatens to give out, ceaselessly pounding in her chest.
“I will stand guard out here.” Rhaena says, voice soft. Like earlier she raises her hand and squeezes Helaena’s shoulder gently, a showing of support and comfort. “I will ensure no one interrupts your conversation .”
Rhaena wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, laughing as Helaena shrugs out of her hand and swats at her.
With a final nod, and after Rhaena turns around as though she is a sentry guarding a gate, Helaena opens the door to the armory.
And her eyes meet a dark doublet.
And then, after looking up, meet surprised brown eyes.
To be a dragon rider, one must trust their instincts. It is one of the first lessons you learn before taking to the sky - to trust your judgement, trust your dragon, and not waste precious time in moments of peril to doubt.
So Helaena does not doubt. She acts on her instincts.
And pushes Jacaerys back into the armory, closing the door behind her.
“Helaena?” He asks, brown eyes widened in confusion. “What are you doing -”
She cuts him off, surging forward and swallowing his words with a kiss. He meets her, instantly, stabilizing her momentum and wrapping his arms around her waist. The touch only fuels the fire in her stomach, and she feels the flame travel through her veins and alight every inch of her skin. She wraps her arms around his neck, her body ablaze at the sturdy weight of his form against hers.
“What are you doing here?” He finally asks, breaking only for air.
“I’ve missed you.” Is her answer, leaning up for another kiss. She sighs at the contact, a thrill running through her as her lips trace his. Quickly though she wants more, and she begins pawing at his clothes and laces in an attempt to get them off.
“Helaena.” Jacaerys says, gently grabbing hold of her arms. “Helaena, wait. Just a moment, love.”
If not for the haze of lust that has captured her mind entirely, mayhaps she would have swooned at that.
But she does not.
And instead she stands on her toes, chasing his pretty mouth with her own.
Jacaerys stops her, still holding her by the arms with a touch so gentle, but does not allow their lips to meet. She whines at the lack of contact, and narrows her eyes at the light laugh that erupts from his chest.
“Cruel.” Her whisper is sultry, quiet in this space that holds only them. “You are cruel to deny me.”
Another laugh, and when he moves his head his neck is more exposed and if she could just lean upwards more, if she was just an inch or two taller, she could bite at his neck and leave little purple marks like her signature on his pretty skin.
“I have said it before, I cannot deny you anything Helaena.”
“You deny me now.”
“Nonsense, I just need to collect my bearings is all.” He hums, pulling her closer. “One moment I was leaving, the next I have you in my arms. Quite a dramatic change, though you will find no complaint on my tongue.”
I could be on your tongue. She thinks, then wonders how his mouth would feel between her legs, working at her core. She thinks she remembers Aegon mentioning something about that at some whorehouse, but it escapes her now. She wonders if Jacaerys has ever thought of it, of planting kisses betwixt her thighs. No time now, mayhaps soon.
“I said I’ve missed you.” She sighs - a breathy thing, a needy thing.
“And I have missed you, more than you know, but if I did not know better I would think you are attempting to seduce me in this very armory.”
Helaena smiles, bringing her right hand from Jacaerys’ neck and to the hardness she feels pressed against her in his breeches. He sighs at the contact, and even through the fabric he feels thick and heavy.
“I am seducing you in this armory.”
“You deserve a bed.” He grits out. “If I were to take you here, it would dishonor you.”
“There is no bed, yet, we can share. Still though, I yearn for you.”
“As I do for you.”
“Then we have reached an agreement.” She purrs.
“Hardly.”
Helaena stops touching his clothed manhood, anxiousness rearing its ugly head in her mind. She begins to think she has overstepped, crossed a line, and made him uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend you.”
His brown eyes, still hazy with lust, turn puzzled.
“I am by no means offended.”
“Do you not want me?” She asks.
Now his eyes are wide as though he is offended, offended at the very notion that he could not want her.
“All I want is you, but you are my betrothed. You deserve a bed, and time. Time to take this pretty dress off of you, and time to kiss you until you shake.” He says, voice gruff and husky.
She rubs her thighs together, delighting in the pressure, but slightly uncomfortable at how soaked her small clothes are. “I’m shaking now.”
“I can kiss you somewhere which will make you shake more.” He counters.
So you have thought of it.
“As I said, we have no bed. Time is something we do not have much of either, Rhaena can only guard the door so long.”
Jacaerys’ eyes widen in shock. “Rhaena is outside?”
Helaena nods, violet eyes still affixed to his plump lips. “So we do not get interrupted.”
“My step-sister stands guard so you can seduce me?”
Helaena cannot help it, but she laughs at the absurdity of it. “One thing led to another, and she volunteered to help.”
“Gods.” Jacaerys shakes his head. “I will never live this down.”
Helaena rolls her eyes, bringing her right hand back up to the nape of his neck. “Woe to Jacaerys, for having a princess throw herself at him.”
“Helaena.” He chides, laughing now.
“Surely the Seven give their hardest battles to their strongest soldiers.”
“Are you not my greatest temptation?” He asks. “The reason for lust long suffered?”
“I am suffering.” She groans. “Dip your hand into my small clothes and you will be drenched in my distress.”
His nostrils flare, eyes now the smouldering pools of honey she remembers from their shared night. It is perhaps the most licentious thing she has said, ever - in her whole life, but it is well worth the reaction she receives. Jacaerys says nothing, only looking at her and then the door as his throat bobs.
“The door is latched?”
She nods, seeing victory on the horizon.
“The yard was empty?”
“Empty, and Rhaena stands guard.”
Helaena can see just a flicker of light in his eyes, a decision made, before he lowers his mouth to hers again. Unbidden a giggle escapes her mouth, and she surges upward to meet his lips. It is intense, and surely their lips will bruise, but all she wants is more more more so she sticks her tongue out and runs it against the bottom of his lip. He smiles against her mouth, opening his own slightly in invitation. Their tongues dance, but still it is not enough and she is trying to pull him down, to go deeper, when his hands grab at her ass and raise her off the ground. Immediately, on instinct really, her legs wrap around his waist.
“How are you -” Mouths meet again, tongues clash. Helaena moans into him, grinding her core against his body. “How are you so strong?”
“An ill colored jest, princess.” He breathes against her neck, now planting kisses along her throat.
“That is not -” She moans at the contact of his lips against her skin. “- That is not what I meant.”
Jacaerys hums, repositioning them so his left arm now supports her as his right arm travels through the plethora of fabric which makes up her dress. She is still suspended in the air, back against the wall, wrapped around him like a vine on a tree. It takes some time for his hand to find her smallclothes, but eventually it does and she sobs at the contact. Quickly he slides her soaked smallclothes to the side, and she bucks against his hand, craving the contact of his long fingers.
“You’re soaked, Helaena.” He whispers.
“I told you.” She moans as his finger enters her, as she accepts him greedily. Just his finger is in her now but it's already so different, so much better than her own, more fulfilling in any way she can attempt to imitate “I suffer in your absence.”
“As do I.” He says, leaning forward to kiss her again.
It does not take long for her climax to ripple through her body. She was already so pent up, so frustrated, and all it takes is his finger working in her and the pressure of her mound against his hand before she is shaking. She is holding onto him for dear life, afraid to fall, as she comes with a sob. She is breathless now, face buried into his shoulder as he continues his ministrations - but she wants more, needs him entire.
“Jacaerys.” Helaena moans into his ear. “Jacaerys, listen.”
“What?” He breathes, turning his neck slightly to kiss the skin between her neck and ear.
“Listen, you need to listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” He laughs.
“Inside me.” She whispers. “I want you inside me.”
He curses, removing his hand from inside her and trying instead to untie the laces of his breeches with one hand. Helaena whines at his absence, and lowers her own hand to assist him. Eventually the laces are undone and his cock, hard and long and so pretty Helaena wants to commission a painting of it, springs free.
“In me.” She repeats. “In me, in me.”
Without wait he complies, and both moan as finally, finally, he enters her in full. She takes him all, tip to base, with ease. There is little sweetness in their movements now, with Helaena pressed against a stone wall and Jacaerys rutting against her like a crazed animal, but she finds this to be just as thrilling, just as fulfilling, as the sweet night they shared weeks ago. She was new to all of this, but amazed still at the different shades and forms intimacy between her and Jacaerys could take. Quickly she feels her stomach begin to tense again, and tears begin pooling in the corner of her eyes. The closeness of his skin, the smell of him in her nose, and the angle in which he is fucking her is all too much and suddenly she is shaking and quivering in his arms again. Helaena hears an incredibly undignified and unladylike noise, a mixture of a moan and sob, echo through the room before she realizes that she is its source. She imagines she would be embarrassed if her brain was not so hazy, if her limbs were not like pudding. The room is spinning around her, and tears fall from her eyes. She looks to her right, smiling at the brown curls and fair skin of her lover. Her eyes, though slightly hazy with tears, focus on his neck and she must feel how Dreamfyre does upon seeing a fattened sheep. Helaena leans forward in Jacaerys’ arms, turning her neck for a good angle, and sinks her teeth into his skin.
Hard. Deep.
And from his own lips, a sound so sweet she wishes to chase it for the rest of her life, Jacaerys moans as he spills in her.
After, once they share a few more kisses and Helaena takes a moment longer to savor being held by him, they separate. Jacaerys hisses when he exits her, and even though they just fucked against the wall Helaena still flushes at how soaked his manhood is now as she watches him lace his breeches. He then assists her in fixing her dress and stockings, smoothing over her clothes so she may look presentable. She is sore now, though in a pleasant way, and her legs are wobbly as she goes to walk. The frustration which was present in her stomach is no longer there, and Helaena cherishes the clearing of her mind.
“I should have been more gentle with you.” Jacaerys tuts, running his hands through her messy hair in an attempt to straighten it.
Helaena shakes her head, taking his hands and kissing them both. “I liked it, and I asked you for it, if you recall.”
Jacaerys smiles. “Oh I do recall. You said something like -”
Helaena, following instinct once again, bites his finger. Jacaerys yelps, but laughs all the same.
“Do not tease me.” She chides, kissing the spot she bit. “It is a cruel thing to do, to tease your betrothed.”
Jacaerys hums, leaning down to capture her lips once more. “As always, you are right.”
“I encourage you to get used to it.”
They say, and kiss, their goodbyes. It is a sad affair, neither wanting to be parted, but already they have tarried and soon someone will notice their absence. Helaena will exit first and return to her chambers with Rhaena, while Jacaerys will wait a good moment to give them time to exit the yard before leaving himself. With a final longing look, Helaena exits and walks towards Rhaena, still standing sentry.
“Took you long enough.” Rhaena grumbles good naturedly, looking Helaena up and down. “You look positively disheveled. Do you feel better?”
“Much better.” Helaena admits freely, ignoring the embarrassment she feels now that lust no longer holds her mind hostage. “Thank you. I apologize for putting you into this odd position.”
Rhaena waves her right hand, locking her left arm around Helaena’s right as they begin walking to the stone steps. “Think nothing of it. I love you, and I love Jacaerys. I want you both to be happy.”
“Thank you, Rhaena. I love you too.” It was an odd thing to admit out loud, to speak of love so freely.
“Even if it means I must stand guard while my step-brother defiles you.”
Helaena flushes, completely, toe to scalp she is sure. “I see this will be mentioned frequently.”
“Oh most certainly, at least until you are queen and outlaw it entire.”
“I will have it stricken from memory.”
Rhaena hums. “Even your memory?”
Helaena pinches Rhaena’s arm, and laughs as Rhaena pinches back.
They laugh their way through the yard, up the stone stairs, and into the Red Keep.