Dragons Fill The Skies Ch 04

***Rhaenyra Targaryen***

The night was late and the entire keep had fallen asleep. Rhaenyra Targaryen stepped out of her chambers, ensuring her special dragon eggs were hidden in their secret spot. She closed her door and locked it. Bran did not assign any guards outside her chambers so the halls were empty. She snuck down into the floor where members of Throne Guards and Kings Guard slept. Ser Malcolm's chambers were the last one down a long hallway. The floor was cold against her soft warm soles, but the candles lining the walls lit the hallway well-lit.

She knocked on his chamber doors and not to her surprise, the door opened, albeit slowly and carefully. She waltzed in and closed the doors behind her. From behind the door, Malcolm took her by surprise from behind and pressed himself against her. His manhood was already hard and rubbed against her ass, ready for some fun. He kissed her neck and wrapped his strong arms around her small waist. Rhaenyra moaned slightly, pressing a hand on his face and turning him around.

Surprised by her strength, he snickers back at her. But there was something off about her as he kissed her, there was an earthy smell to her as if she was spending time in the dirt. She smiled at him and brushed her fingers through her hair which caused several flies to escape from within. She walked around his chambers, slowly undoing the knots of her gown top.

"Would you like to know when I first became sexually active, Ser Malcolm? It was when my uncle, Daemon showed me around the brothels of Kings Landing at night a very long time ago. I never imagined the common folk were so primal in their desires for the flesh, but I suppose we're only human. Sit down Ser Malcolm."

He did as she bid him and undid his short list of clothing. This reminded her of the time she was with Ser Cristin Cole. Just remembering his face, their actions, and his words filled her with anger, sadness, and betrayal. But he was a ghost now, long dead and forgotten except by her. With the knots of her gown top undone, she moved the straps off her shoulders and let the top half fall, exposing her pale breasts and soft pink nipples. Ser Malcolm undid his shirt, removed his pants, and stroked himself uncontrollably.

She stopped just inches in front of him, smiling a devilish smile as she took the hem of her gown and slowly lifted it up. Ser Malcolm, revving up to go, stood up to claim Rhaenyra, but when she fully lifted her dress, ravens in the hundreds flew out from under and filled the entire chamber with the sound of flapping of wings and cawing. Ser Malcolm and Rhaenyra were caught off guard. The lights went out, blanketing the chamber in pitch-black darkness. The only perceivable light came from Rhaenyra herself, as Ser Malcolm could see her eyes glowing a golden hue. It was like looking at a lioness in the dark, stalking him.

"What do you think you are doing with your King's wife" Ser Malcolm heard his king's voice from behind. He turned to explain himself, but the sight that stood before him was a tall slender man, far taller than anyone he had ever known with a black cloak and clothing with a raven's head instead of a man's. Its eyes burned like torches and it opened its black beak and unleashed a horrible caw that made his scream get trapped in the middle of his throat.

Rhaenyra smiled and punched her hand through Ser Malcolm's back and out in front of his chest, ripping his heart out and causing blood to spray all over The Raven man. He fell and flayed around, seeing the last few moments of his life quickly slipping away. He was honored by the last sight he would ever see, A pale being taller than anything possible in all the worlds, towering the raven man by orders and magnitudes. It was covered in a black cloak of black mist. It wore a crown of black feathers as black as can be. The hundreds of ravens flying around the room merged to form Bran. Ser Malcolm reached up at both his king and Rhaenyra, both her eyes and Bran's glowed, they weren't human!

Blood began to pool around the floor. Rhaenyra dropped his still-beating heart and it landed on his face.

"You already knew what was going on, that's why you didn't put any guards outside of my chambers." Rhaenyra said, blood spray and streaks across her face.

"I'll always have my eyes on you, Rhaenyra."

"What are we going to do about his body?" she wondered.

The room grew cold, extremely cold as Rhaenyra stepped closer to Bran. Their breaths billowed out of their mouths. A black mist covered the dead knight's body, his body and the blood sank beneath the floor, vanishing without a trace.

"It's not our concern anymore," Bran answered.

The candles inside of the chambers lit themselves back up, one by one. There was warth in here. He looked around and came back to staring back at Rhaenyra, who understood this moment and why The Stranger, her God, relit the candles.

She closed the gap between her Bran and kissed him. He kissed her back, his hands coming down on her shoulders down to her breasts. She moaned in his mouth, catching her breath as she urged him to do more than that. He removed her bloodstained gown and soaked in the beauty and exotic prize of her naked frame. Silver hair covered her intimate area. She blushed and helped Bran out of his clothes, but he stopped her.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"This is my first time Rhaenyra, and I don't want you to relive the moment you were undoing Ser Cristin Cole's armor, centuries ago."

Rhaenyra looked guilty and turned red in the cheeks with embarrassment. "How did you know that I was--"

"When you looked up after the two of you had finished, I was there in that room with you. I know it wasn't honorable to watch, but I was curious about sex and scrolled through the pages of history looking for couples doing it and I stumbled upon your moment. You sensed me, but you couldn't see me during that time."

Bran unclothed himself, revealing a lean but muscular frame from neck to toes.

"Do you think I'm a whore, your Gra--"

"Call me Bran, Rhaenyra." he corrected her.

"Forgive me, Bran."

"No, I don't think you are a whore. Everything that happened led you to me, just as everything I have done has led me to this. I hope I will not disappoint you with my lack of experience Rhaenyra."

Rhaenyra blushed, hands covering her mouth as she turned to hide her laughter. She turned back and spoke, "You inherited giants blood I see" referring to his manhood. "It's going to be my first time with a man like you, your grace."

"I suppose we should start, my love," Bran said softly, taking her face and kissing her. Kisses changed to touching to caresses and more.

Her hands were strong enough to break a stone, but as she stroked him and took his length down her throat, looking up at him, his mind flooded with only the thought of making her all his. Her tongue licked around his member, and her hands cradled and kneaded his balls. She was relentless, taking ever more inches down her hot wet throat. Bran fucked her mouth as she welcomed his direction in where he was taking this. Moments before cuming, Bran pulled out of her mouth with a "puh" sound from her.

"You waited so long for this Rhaenyra," he said breathing deeply. "After this, there's no turning back. Our destinies will merge and become one."

He pulled her, carried her, and laid her on their bed. His hands spread her legs apart and spread her womanhood apart with his fingers. Rhaenyra's mind went up to the heavens when she felt his hot tongue exploring her most private and prized area.

"Ungh, Hungh oh Gods yes, eat my cunt, eat my fucking cunt like that." Rhaenyra's legs trembled and her toes curled as her body writhed in cascading pleasure.

Bran rose between her, keeping himself up on his knees. She saw his cock throb and was awed at its size and weight. With her new eyes, the eyes her God gave her with her new life, she saw a beautiful black crown of feathers above Bran's head. Through his eyes, Bran saw the broken black halo behind Rhaenyra's head.

"We are no longer humans, no longer Stark, Targaryen, we have truly become--" Bran was saying.

Rhaenyra rose with a finger that she pressed on his lips. Not wasting time, Bran pushed himself inside her, getting a wince from her. He looked down at where they were connected and saw blood coating his member.

"Am I your first in this life?" he said surprised.

"I am, and you're mine," she said smirking.

Bran pushed himself inside of her with deep strokes, slapping himself against her as their tongues intertwined together in a deep kiss. He moaned and she moaned right back. Their foreheads touched as they both watched Bran fuck her, his movement picking up more and more. The poor bed itself was beginning to rattle and its wooden frame developing fractures.

"Fuck me, hhnnng, FUCK ME, BRAN!"

Bran held her lower half up and fucked her harder and harder until he finally came, body jerking uncontrollably filling her more and more. In their sensual heights, Rhaenyra was taken to a world where Bran sat atop a tree of gargantuan proportions. It dwarfed any ancient dragon ever known. Bran was made of roots, he was this heavenly tree sitting atop the world.

The night was long and the candles despite burning for hours, lasted as long as Bran and Rhaenyra, whose shadows on the wall shifted in different sexual positions throughout the night until the day finally arrived. Bran gave her his seed, but more, gave her his heart, and Rhaenyra in turn, gave him everything that was her. After an eternity spent inside the world of The Stranger, she sobbed real tears of joy, grateful and happy to have a pair of warm arms holding her close once again. When she opened her eyes in the morning, Bran would still be there unlike the ghosts of her past in the void.

In the Void, The Stranger watched them sleeping peacefully together. Around its neck a silver dragon necklace formed bursting with electrical power that snapped and cracked. Its power burned a white luminance nearly illuminating the piercing all-encompassing darkness, revealing an eternal world of endless souls being driven away by the power.

At the light of a new day, Bran awoke, watching Sam in his mind writing to Sansa about his condition and about everything that was shared with the heads of state.

"My dear friend, Queen Sansa, this is Maester Samwell. I am writing this letter to reveal to you that your brother and my friend, King Bran, has regained the use of his legs and is accompanied by a young lady who he has taken a great liking to. As one of his new changes to how the monarchy will work, he has given himself the right to marry this mysterious lady as his consort and only his consort, while allowing himself to marry two noble ladies. I am aware that his grace knows that I am writing this and will explain to him why I did so before he could permit me. I expect your visit soon, I pray all is well with you and your family and house."

***Sansa Stark***

In The North, summer was at its strongest and the weather was pleasant enough for everyone to go out with light clothing. The deer were out, the flowers were in full bloom and the fields were green and free of snow. Winterfell was busy with construction workers repairing the damage after the battle for Winterfell ended several moons ago. Soldiers from different northern houses were posted outside of the walls sharing tales of battle and their role in the battle against the Night King.

Queen Sansa sat on The Wolf's Throne, a grey chair with dire wolf heads on the backrest and armrests. Northern lords came with either their sons, brothers, or themselves as candidates as potential marriage partners for the Queen of The North. Many northern house banners filled the throne room, except House Bolton and House Karstark who were barred from attending. But the Northern Houses were not the only ones interested in paring a bachelor with the Queen of The North, noble men from Dorne, princes from Essos, and even one prince from Yi Ti who stood out from everyone else based on his exotic clothing.

"Your grace, I understand that you are Queen of The North, our sovereign ruler but I do not understand why there are foreign heads here in our kingdom. If their invitation was merely a kind gesture to be inclusive, fine, but you need to be married to a northern lord. To strengthen your allegiance to--"

"I am Queen, Lord Hornwood, and whoever I decide to marry and make my co-ruler, The entire North will still be loyal to me. Now, I want to start with Jin Soza, our distinguished princely guest from the empire of Yi Ti. He traveled far, farther than any man here so I would love to make his time worthwhile here."

Jin was a tall man, lean, wearing black and golden clothes with foreign armor on. His plated breast armor bore a serpentine dragon on it. On his head, he wore a unique brass helm with a monkey's tail. His skin was pale and his eyes slanted. His hair was very dark, everything about him was exotic, foreign but radiating with wisdom and patience.

"Thank you for honoring me and all of Yi Ti by giving me a first audience with you my lady."

"Your accent is quite attractive, Lord, I mean Prince Soza. Your armor is unique and so is your sword, it looks so thin but it fits your form so well."

"Our armor may look thin and weak, but as you correctly put it, it's supposed to maximize defense while not sacrificing mobility. The armor of the west maximizes defenses but your knights and soldiers movements are stiff and...clunky."

The murmuring of the northern lords and free city princes filled the room.

"Forgive me, Queen Sansa, but our women don't naturally have beautiful red hair like yours, it's as if The Phoenix has blessed you."

"What is a Phoenix?" Sansa asked him, leaning forward and smiling.

"It's a Magical bird made of flames that once it dies, it is reborn from its ashes, stronger and more brilliant. It is said that owning one will grant you whatever you ask of it, so long as the heart wishing Is pure."

Sansa blushed and blinked several times. "Why should I consider you as my future king and husband, Prince Soza?"

"I understand my home is very far away, but my principality has five hundred thousand soldiers, ten thousand war tigers all trained and tamed. One thousand monkeys trained in the art of stealth kills and ten thousand servants who also serve as soldiers, but the art of war is not their main skill. They are a measure of last resort."

"Queen Sansa if you so much as consider this foreigner, Westeros will be flooded with foreigners and--"

"Lord Glover, if you speak out of turn one more time you may pack up and leave. Prince Soza, your army is enormous, but I ask, why have so many men."

"Jogos Nhai, the nomadic war tribes border my principality to the north. These are barbarians who rape, pillage and kill. They also travel in large hoards like The Dothraki. They respect that I have my hoard, and every man in my army, even my servants is ready to lay their life for Yi Ti. If an all-out war were declared between my principality and The Jogos Nhai, it would be mutual destruction for both sides."

Maester Pluto, a newly instated Maester personally chosen by Sansa approached her table and went over to read to her the letter that Samwell had sent to her. The longer she listened to Sam's written words, the more shocked her eyes turned. She turned emotional and stood up from her throne.

"Forgive me everyone, but I am pausing on hearing marriage proposals for the next few days. I have an important crown business that requires my attention. Please, you are welcome to stay at Winterfell's Inns. Please wait for my return." Sansa headed out with her knights outside to a wooden and iron carriage. When all the preparations were ready, the snap of the reigns made the horses pull the carriage forward with Sansa inside. A column of Stark knights on their horses followed behind.

***Jon***

Jon's home was unique and stood out among the others in the free folks settlement, its foundation was made of giant whale bones and wooly mammoth tusks. Stitched hide from killed bears and seals and whatever else was delivered by Queen Sansa. All of this acted as insulation from the howling winds from either summer or winter when it turned night. There was a small fire going in the middle of the home keeping the interior warm. He was lying in his bed of furs, sleeping, in the recesses of his mind he was dreaming.

In his dreams, he was walked further north to where the Night King and his army originated from. To his left was Ghost and to his right was Rhaegal. At first, he was naked but in an instant, he donned the armor he wore the night the army of the dead arrived and stormed Winterfell. With Longclaw in his hand, he watched the sun itself bleed and die, throwing the entire world into inky blackness, not even the light of the stars or moon could be seen. The more ancient and world-shaking sound of all the world's monsters and animals roaring and seemingly laughing blasted him and his companions back. This was something far worse than The Night King. Worlds beyond worse. Black snow fell as a powerful black blizzard suddenly appeared. The snow that fell on him froze instantaneously.

Ghost responded by growing larger and turning his fangs to ice, while Rhaegal coated himself in brilliant flames that could melt stone. Both beasts bravely head towards the origin of the roar. Although Jon wanted to join them in the defense, instinctually he stayed back knowing that if he went forward, he would never come back.

Jon's eyes shot open as his wife Sona who was with their two daughters, shoved him awake.

"My love, something's not right," Jon muttered.

"I know. Our wargs and Greenseer have grave news for you. The entire settlement is calling for a meeting right now."

***Tyrion***

As Lord Paramount of The Westerlands, Tyrion oversaw a new construction site for a school in a small village outside of Casterly Rock. His new Maester, Donald, who was a fellow dwarf like him joined him not long after Tyrion was appointed Lord Paramount of The Westerlands by King Bran.

"More schools means more children from The Westerlands will be more educated my lord. Most of the other kingdoms prioritize military training or theater and art, but education is more important."

"I agree. Maester Donald. Where are you from, don't tell me you're from The Citadel? That accent is not Westerosi."

"Well my lord it will surprise you that I come from an undiscovered island populated by only dwarves."

"Seriously, are you lying because lying to me will mean--"

"I'm not lying my lord, it's called Marble Rose, at least that's what our chief and his entire line call it. It's located South of Sothoryos."

"A very very long journey. Do dwarves there live like...savages or?"

"No, we're not barbarians my lord. We are quite civilized. We have a goddess statue that performs miracles."

"Mm, is she beautiful, the statue I mean," Tyrion asked.

"She's tall, like for a woman. But I believe she is real, I have dreamt of her on several occasions. It was because of her guidance that I found my new path in life, serving alongside a powerful dwarf. She is a native of our island and only hears the prayers of dwarves."

"Do you think you can bring that statue to Casterly Rock? I have a lot on my mind that worries me and a dwarf-loving goddess is something or someone I need right now."

"I can't bring the original statue itself here, but I can have an exact marble replica of her made under my supervision. I know all her details better than I know my cock."

Tyrion and Donald shared a chuckle and laugh. "C'mon Maester Donald, I have to head back to Casterly Rock, I have marriage proposals to listen to. I need to cement my claim as Lord Paramount of The Westerlands as soon as possible. There are still Lannisters that want my head now that my father, Jaime, and Cersei are dead."