Chapter Text
Nightfall on Dragonstone found King Aemon Targaryen staring out over the dark waters of the Narrow Sea. Aemon, or Jon, as he was known more widely, felt a decided weight upon his shoulders as he contemplated his current predicament. Though he hadn't meant to, Jon had overheard his wife, Daenerys, with Missandei earlier, and the words of that conversation had been rattling around his head since.
The pain and sadness and frustration in Dany's voice as she lamented Jon's lackluster performance in his marital duties had hurt him. It was clear that she had been holding all those feelings in for a while and the worst part was that Jon couldn't even argue with her assessment. His cock was not very large at all, easily covered by Dany's hand when she gripped his manhood. Worse than that, however, was that Jon had no ability to last, often spilling before he even got inside of Dany.
This wasn't a new problem. His relationship with Ygritte had suffered the same issues, and it was why he'd gotten so skilled with his fingers and tongue. That had been enough to satisfy his Free Folk lover, but there were issues of inheritance at play now. Jon and Dany needed to have an heir to pass the throne to, and it seemed like it would be impossible with the way things currently stood.
The door opened and closed behind him and Jon turned to find Dany already dressed for bed. She gave him a smile, genuine and warm, no hint of her frustration visible. It made Jon's heart ache to know that he was failing her at the most basic level.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly. Dany stepped out onto the balcony with him, wrapping her arms around herself as the cool sea breeze washed over her.
Jon took a moment to appreciate how beautiful she was, more so than any woman in the world. His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, the full moon making her unbound hair glow. Jon's cock hardened and there was some part of him that was relieved that whatever his failings were, it wasn't because he didn't love and find Dany desirable.
He took her mouth in a passionate kiss, swallowing the gasp she gave at his sudden action. All of his tumultuous thoughts made him desperate to sate her, to prove himself worthy of her love and care. Dany responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her breasts to him, her nipples hard points under her thin clothes. Jon moaned into her mouth as he grasped her arse, thick with muscle from riding horses and dragons for many years.
His cock jumped in his trousers, lust burning through Jon's veins until he was dizzy with it. He wanted Daenerys badly, more than he'd ever wanted anyone else. She groaned as he nipped at her plump bottom lip, teasing the soft flesh with his tongue. Jon worked her outer robe open and slid it off of her, taking her right breast in hand and thumbing at her nipple.
"Ah, yes, Jon," Dany said roughly. She kissed down his neck, her nails dragging down his chest.
Jon felt the familiar sensation of an orgasm already coiling tight at the base of his spine. Despair hit him like an arrow as Dany cupped his small manhood through his trousers. There was no stopping it. Jon climaxed with a groan, his cock pulsing a few times as the pleasure of it washed over him. Tears of shame and anger stung in his eyes, swirling through and mixing with the ecstasy until Jon couldn't tell which was which.
The agony only grew as Dany slowly withdrew her hand and stepped away. Jon's face burned with humiliation and frustration and the tears spilled over before he could wipe them away. His hairless crotch was now uncomfortably sticky and wet, only adding to his misery as he saw the look on Dany's face. She reached out to try and comfort him and Jon recoiled, unable to accept her love.
"Jon," she said softly, like she had hundreds of times before.
"Don't," he whispered. It was too much for him to take. "Please, don't. I-I'm so sorry, Dany, I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Shh, there's nothing wrong with you, my love," Dany murmured, trying to step closer, but Jon retreated again.
Hurt flashed across her face before she could hide it and it only served to solidify Jon's feelings of inadequacy. Here was a beautiful and kind woman who loved him beyond all measure, and he couldn't even give her the satisfaction she deserved in bed. As talented as Jon was at the Lord's Kiss, he knew it wasn't enough, that she craved all of the kinds of intimacy a woman shares with her husband.
"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice breaking. "I-I need some time. I'm sorry."
Jon fled from their rooms before she could stop him, her voice trailing after him as he turned corners blindly, desperate to get away. The front of his trousers were still stained with his shame, but the halls were mercifully empty. He wasn't sure how long he ran like a coward, but his lungs burned as he finally stopped, somewhere deep in the lower levels of the keep. The dust and general disarray seemed to indicate that no one had passed through, let alone bothered to clean in a long time.
He scrubbed at his eyes harshly, and fought back the sob caught in his throat. Jon grimaced at the cooling mess of spend in his trousers and regretted fleeing like he had. His eventual return would be unbearably awkward and disappointing. As if he hadn't screwed things up enough, he'd have to apologize for even more failures.
With a groan, he kicked the wall and nearly lost his balance as it swung away to reveal a hidden chamber. Darkness shrouded the space beyond, but when Jon poked his head in, a series of torches lit around the walls. He jumped back, ready to fight, yet there was no one there. With a frown, he carefully moved forward, his eyes scanning everything.
There was a round altar opposite the door, with quite a few candles on it. Otherwise the space was nearly barren save for a desk and a chair off to the left side. Warily, Jon approached the desk finding it covered in a layer of dust like everything else in the area. There was a leather bound book atop it, well used if the creases in the spine were any indication. The cover was written in Valyrian, but Jon's grasp of the language was almost entirely spoken. He was surprised to find, however, that he recognized the words. "The Pact of Fire and Blood."
Curious beyond the measure of it, Jon opened the journal and found it written in Common. What he read would change his life forever.
The journal belonged to Aegon the Conqueror. Like his ancestor, Daenys, Aegon had been blessed with dragon dreams. He foresaw the rise of the Great Other from beyond The Wall and sought to unify the Seven Kingdoms against this threat. He knew this would be a difficult task, and that a kingdom held together only with violence would crumble quickly. The Fourteen deities of Old Valyria granted him a vision and offered him a choice; Aegon would bind the Seven Kingdoms together and the Targaryen's would rule, but the King and his heir would have small manhoods and be chaste cuckolds. The queen would have to take a separate lover to father her children, and the firstborn son would then be adopted in a blood ritual which would make them a Targaryen as if they'd been born of the king's seed.
Aegon, terrified at what he'd seen of the threat beyond The Wall, had spoken with his sisters and then agreed with the gods' demands. The gods had guided the trio to this room, where they found a box with two Valyrian steel chastity cages and the altar for the adoption. Visenya and Rhaenys had worked in tandem to lock Aegon I in his cage and the next day, they began the conquest.
Jon's head spun with what he'd just read. He couldn't believe it, even as his shaking hands opened the top right drawer of the desk and found the box. He took a deep breath and cracked the lid. The way the light flickered off the Valyrian steel cock cages was almost mesmerizing and Jon found himself tempted like he'd never been before. Slamming the lid shut, he put the box on the desk and opened the rest of the drawers, finding other journals from past Targaryen kings who had all been brought to the room by their king's when they were heir to the throne. Each of them had accepted their role and responsibility as cuckolds for the dynasty.
Until Aerys, it seemed. There was no journal for him, and as Jon flipped through Rhaegar's entries, he found out why. Aerys refused the pact, refused to sacrifice for the magic of their family and the good of the realm. He believed himself above the words of gods who had let their dragons die out and had tried to prevent Rhaegar from accepting the pact. Aerys might have succeeded if Rhaegar hadn't been blessed with dragon dreams, as well. Jon's father had found the room and the truth of the Targaryen dynasty and accepted his role.
Arthur Dayne had fathered Jon's siblings and Jon himself. Aegon had been adopted as was the custom for their house and according to Rhaegar's last entries, he'd left Lyanna explicit instructions to do the same for Jon. Realization washed over Jon as he sat heavily in the chair. His mother must have performed the ritual, for there was no other explanation for his state. He'd always had urges and desires that other men never mentioned, so Jon hadn't either. With this new knowledge, Jon let his mind wander for the briefest of moments, and a scene of Dany with a faceless lover filled his vision. Contentment and joy accompanied the sight, as well as intense arousal.
Jon's cock grew hard as he continued to imagine it; Dany and her lover intertwined in every possible way, the sounds of pleasure from his wife's mouth like the sweetest music. Her, swollen with child and practically radiating happiness as she cuddled into Jon, his cock tucked away in its cage. It felt right in a way that trying to lay with Daenerys never had. As beautiful as she was, as much as Jon wanted her, he now knew his place was at her feet and beside her bed as her needs were met by another.
Jon's heart raced as he carefully gathered Aegon I's journal and the box. He made his way back up through the keep, paying very close attention to the route he took so that he could return to the room later. There were Unsullied in the halls on guard duty, but none stopped him as he finally entered the chambers he shared with Daenerys.
His wife was already asleep, but Jon could see from the redness around her eyes that she'd been crying. The ache in his chest from earlier returned, but it was assuaged a bit by the treasures he'd retrieved. Jon stripped out of his clothes, his small hairless cock still hard and slipped into their bed. He gently shook Dany's shoulder and called her name until her eyes started to flutter.
"Jon?" she asked, groggy with sleep.
"I'm here, Dany. I'm here." Jon caught her as she launched herself into his arms and tried to soothe her as her breathing hitched. "I'm so sorry. Gods, I'm sorry. Please don't cry."
She simply squeezed him tighter for a long while before finally pulling back. Though tears glistened in her eyes, Dany didn't let them fall. She cupped his cheek and looked at him, smiling so softly that Jon felt himself fall a little more in love with her.
"Are you alright?" she murmured.
Jon huffed, amazed at how kind and caring she was. "Yes, of course. It's you I'm worried about. I'm sorry, Dany, so fucking sorry. I know I haven't been what you wanted, haven't been good enough for you."
"Jon, don't-"
"Please, let me finish," Jon said, gently placing his finger against her lips. She raised her brow at him but stayed silent so Jon continued. "I overheard you by accident this afternoon, and you're right. I haven't been giving you everything you deserve. And I think I know why."
He offered her the journal and watched as she read it. Her eyes grew wider and wider with each line until she finally looked back up at him. Jon took the box from the bedside and opened it, revealing the cages to her. Dany tentatively ran a finger over the Valyrian steel contraption.
"There's a whole collection of journals in a room in the depths of the keep from every Targaryen king. They detail their thoughts and feelings about the pact, and who was chosen to father their children. I found Rhaegar's." Dany's eyes managed to grow even wider at his words. "He left instructions with my mother on how to perform the ritual and she must have, Dany."
"This is a lot," she said. Her fingers drifted over the cage again, almost absentmindedly. "It's a lot to take in, but I suppose it makes some sort of sense, doesn't it?"
"It feels like the truest thing I've ever read," Jon said shyly. "I finally understand why I am the way I am. I've long harbored fantasies that I've been petrified to ever share, but with this..."
"Jon, are you saying you want this?" Dany murmured.
Jon felt his face burn with humiliation even as his cock twitched with interest. "Yes. I've always wanted it, but I had no way to explain it or bring it up. I love you, Dany, and I want you so badly it hurts. Yet, the thought of you with another man makes me weak with desire."
"You know that I love you, right, Jon? Whatever my frustrations are, you are the man I chose to love," she said. "I meant my vows when I swore myself to you for life. I don't need you to do this for me. We can always find another way, somehow."
"I've never once doubted your feelings for me," he answered. "But I wouldn't consider myself any kind of man if I ignored your needs just because I can't fulfill them. You deserve to have the pleasure of a true lover, one that can give you the children we both want so badly. And- I want it."
Once more, her hand drifted over the cage, caressing the finely wrought device. She lifted it from its velvet pillow and turned it over, eying it with interest. Jon's heart felt like it was in his throat as his wife considered the cage in silence. There was an air of tension, as if the very future of the realm hung in the balance. Jon supposed it did, in a way. Finally, Dany lifted her eyes and met his gaze.
"You will be my cuckold king? Raise another man's children as your own? Love them as your own? Be my faithful and dutiful husband?" Daenerys asked.
Jon shivered at the undiluted lust her words inspired in him. "Yes."
"Kneel." He scrambled from the bed with undisguised eagerness, settling on the floor as Dany moved to stand before him. "Spread your knees."
Jon's breath caught as he obeyed, watching in awe as she crouched down and slipped his balls and cock through the base ring. She fit the cage over his cock, holding it secure as she slid the key into the lock and turned it with a definitive click.
His cock ached perfectly in its new confinement and for the first time in his life, Jon felt settled as Dany stood in front of him, clutching the key in her hand.
"Now, to find a man worthy of fathering the next King of the Seven Kingdoms," she said.
Jon was overcome with an impulse he'd had since he'd laid eyes on Daenerys. Without another word, he bent forward and kissed her toes, gently worshipping each of them as he murmured his thanks over and over. It felt like the only way to properly express his gratitude and love for the incredible woman before him, to show how much she meant to him. Paired with the cage around his manhood, it helped to truly solidify their new roles.
"I have some ideas," Jon said quietly, after finally sitting back on his heels.
Dany's face was flushed with desire as she stared down at him. "I can't wait to hear them."