( FOURTEEN FIRES )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 5: the song of ice and fire.

WARNING: graphic sexual content at the end of the chapter

VALYRIAN weddings were typically extravagant and flamboyant, a testament to the bride's worth and the wealth of her house. Presented with a hefty dowry, Valyrian brides were also gifted treasures from all reaches of the Freehold, and sometimes beyond. The celebration would last three days at least, and a week if the bride's family wished to fund such an extensive and expensive event. Exotic meats would be roasted and seasoned, lavish wine drank, and music played at all hours as attendees reliquinshed themselves to the popular forms of sexual debauchery and rowdy celebration; it was not seen as a sin. Gifts would come in waves, the highest of value being slaves, precious jewels, and dragon eggs, their value based on that order, to be precise.

The wedding between Vaella and Gaemon would not be as such. They did not have ornate laurels of exotic flowers, performing fire mages, or an audience to rival the dragon coliseum where brutal games and races between dragons and riders took place in the capital. There would be no giant crowd made up of the other great houses that governed Valyria and its Freehold, who would celebrate with them for days on end.

Instead of such luxuries, the quaint ceremony took place near the prairie cliffs in the presence of Paethorys and Targaryen dragons. It would be followed by a small feast before she and Gaemon would be expected to consummate their marriage.

A wooden platform was assembled by Targaryen footmen so that the two stood before the expanse of the Narrow Sea behind them, a Valyrian priest present to perform the ceremony. Two blazing braziers flanked the platform, illuminating a standing Targaryen and Paethorys banner on either side. Nearly everyone's dragon was present, dotting the grass around them. Vaella had flown Opalia from the Dragonmont, bursting from the cave's opening. Her last flight as a Paethorys, and her last flight before she would be forced to put away Maegon forever.

Though Vaella bore dragon eggs from her own house when she'd arrived to Dragonstone the day prior, she would not gift them to her husband as a token of good faith. They would remain with her, ready to be gifted unto the children she would bear from him. Despite holding no love for the man she was about to call husband, she would still love her children fiercely. They still had Paethorys blood, after all. And would be dragon riders just as she.

Marlaena would not arrive in time for the ceremony, so Vaella had been prepped and readied by the servants of her betrothed's house. All women likely hailing from the Freehold's colonies, all of them varying shades of olive-toned skin and hair colors. They were silent as they washed her, brushed her long, silver hair, and fashioned it half up, half down. Two wavy portions lay over her chest in smooth, rippling waves. Lastly, she was dressed in the free-flowing red-stained robes of the Valyrian faith, scented oils dabbed behind her ears and on her breasts.

Her mother had come to visit her before she sought out her dragon to make the flight down to the prairie. Tears lined Daevara's red-tinted eyes, a proud smile on her lips. Her mother had told her how proud she was, and that her siblings were too. It did little to stave away the throbbing anxiety that consumed Vaella.

Now, as Vaella walked arm and arm with her father toward the platform where Gaemon and the priest waited, every instinct in her told her to run.

Run away from this ceremony. Run away from the life she didn't ask for, where she would put away the love for Maegon in favor of honor and duty to her house and its protection against those who wished to crush them.

It hit her then, the realization that she perhaps did have the motivation to partake in her union with Gaemon. Protecting her house by marrying him and bartering the dragons his house had to offer. There were not many, but they held riders, something the Paethorys were desperate for.

She would partake in this for Maegon's memory, she decided. For his zealous love for their house's honor. His devotion to defending it. The devotion that took his life.

She could do it. She could marry Gaemon and perform her duties as a wife if it meant that her house would remain strong and defended. Just as Maegon would have wanted.

As her father released her to Gaemon on the alter, Vaeron offered her a gentle smile and a nod of encouragement. She loved her father and knew he did not give her away lightly. Yet, he was giving her away nontheless.

Around the altar, the Targaryen's and Paethorys gathered. Vaella's mother and father were lavishly garbed in the deep blue and silver of their house. They watched with admiration at her, pride in their gazes. 

The Targaryen's brandished their black and blood red, seemingly the opposite of the Paethorys colors. Daenys and Monterys stood together in silence, while Aenar and Daevara beamed with excitement and pride. Behind them, Targaryen men stood guard.

Vaella tried her best to ignore the flare of anger that almost took her. Her soon to be good-parents had yet to relinquish their excitement for the union that was to take place within moments. It was as if they had won a prized mare at an auction.

The priest began to uplift praises to the gods before he would bind them together, to garner their blessings for her and Gaemon's union. The priest called up to Syrax, for fruitfulness. To Tyraxes, for reason, wisdom, and peace. To Meleys, for love and fertility. And finally to Arrax, the ruler of them all, for strength.

As the priest recited the praises to the silent gathering, Vaella allowed her gaze to then focus on Gaemon. He towered over her where he stood not even arm's length in front of her. His shoulder-length hair had been washed and brushed, and whatever oil or soap he'd bathed in wafted toward her. It smelt of pine of sea salt, a mixture she found surprisingly welcoming. The robes he wore, exactly like hers, hung off his frame despite his fairly muscular stature but did not hide the broadness of his strong shoulders.

Her eyes locked with his, and she tried to focus on him alone as the priest spoke. She would not allow her thoughts to drift to Maegon, whom she was supposed to be standing before instead of Gaemon. She couldn't let that weakness consume her in the moment she needed to be her strongest. Not when her family, new and old, watched unwaveringly. 

As if to offer some reassurance, Gaemon offered a slight nod and a smirk. His indigo gaze was gentle as he looked down at her. It eased her mind slightly, but the burning eyes that stood around them still made her uneasy. He was not Maegon, but he was proving to be a reasonable and honorable man so far.

Soon, as the priest ended his praises, he then instructed the two of them to clasp a hand together. They did, and Vaella found Gaemon's skin was calloused and rough. But smooth and warm. An embroidered cloth, long in its length, was then wrapped around their conjoined hands. Their symbolic binds them. Their handfasting.

Soon to follow would be their vows. The words that would have them bound to each other for the rest of their lives. The priest then began to recite the words, line by line, for the two of them to say together. Before the vows left their lips, they met gazes.

"Blood of two, joined as one," Vaella and Gaemond uttered together, voices melding into a sort of melody. Their eyes did not break from each other as they spoke. It made her feel like she was on fire as their bound hands held each other within the loose binding.

There was no going back. This was her husband. They were almost bound under the sight of the gods. Soon by blood and by oath.

"Joined as one."

There was no longer Maegon. There was Gaemon and the fire and blood that came with him.

"Ghostly flame and song of shadows."

Her heart pounded with each word uttered.

"Two hearts as embers, forged in Fourteen Fires."

With every vow, she felt herself growing further and further away from Maegon. From who she was with him. From who she was meant to be.

"A future promised in glass, stars stand witness."

Even through circumstance and fate, she was his, and he was hers. 

"The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light."

As their last vows were said, a dragon glass blade was handed to Gaemon. Slicing his lower lip to allow crimson to swell on the soft skin, Gaemon then handed it to Vaella. She took it with her free hand and followed suit, the edge of the blade so fine and precise that the slice was almost unnoticeable to her. She felt her blood swell, warm and wet.

Vaella then gave the knife back to the priest, who then gave a goblet of blessed wine to her. She took her drink, a mixture of iron and sweetness flowing over her tongue. The slice on her lip stung on contact with the liquid.

She then passed the goblet to Gaemon. He did the same, before passing it off to the priest.

Then, they sealed their union with a kiss. Their blood and the lingering wine mixed as their lips touched, the metallic taste indistinguishable from whose essence Vaella was tasting. Despite being surrounded by watching eyes, she felt like they were alone. As if this union had sparked even the slightest inclination toward him who she now called husband. Toward what they might be. 

When they pulled apart, both of their lips were rouged with blood. The salty wind tossled their loose hair around them as the priest declared them man and wife.

And so fire and ice became one, under the sight of gods and man.

♜

THE feast that followed the ceremony passed in a blur. Vaella Targaryen tried her best to appear pleased with the festivities her new family was providing for the sake of her parents, but they knew all too well that she was suffering inside. So much had happened, all too quickly. The sympathetic glances of her mother told her enough that they were not ignoring her pain.

Even though Vaella made it her mission to be loyal to the Targaryens for the sake of her own maiden house, it was still all too much for her. She'd put away her love for Maegon at the altar, but she would not be able to let go of the memory. That, she'd told herself, she would still hold close to her. Gaemon would surely not blame her, not when he'd lost his own betrothed to the throes of death. 

Sitting next to her husband, Vaella picked at the roasted herring doused in a viscous lemon and rosemary sauce. Other dishes remained at arm's length before them at the table, an assortment of vegetables, fruits, and baked desserts. Candles illuminated the table while sconces blazed on the walls around them. 

Aenar had bragged the citrus fruit that made up the sauce on their fish dishes had been imported from Lys just before their arrival, as their platters had been set before them at the table for the feast. His braggart personality had not settled well with Vaella, nor did she think it ever would.

Gaemon sat at her right side, while her mother sat to her left. At the head of the table to her far right, Aenar headed that side of the table while Vaella's father headed the other. Valaena and Daevara sat near their respective husbands. Monterys sat next to Daenys on the opposite side of the table, silent and stoic. The dining hall saw nothing but silver hair and dragon riders at its table.

Vaella wanted Marlaena there. Wanted her pretty cat with her silver-grey hair and blue eyes. Both would be arriving soon enough, but the wait would seemingly last forever. She wanted to go to her chambers, take off the feast dress she'd been changed into after flying back to the keep, and go to sleep. Yet, she knew she would be doing little sleeping tonight. The thought made her heart flutter anytime she thought of it. She bit her lip, only to be reminded of the wound still fresh on her tender skin from the dragon glass knife.

"We have gifts for you," Aenar beamed at Vaella with a clap of his hands. A handful of servants made their way into the hall bearing items in their grasp, stopping near her chair.

Glancing at Gaemon where he sat at her side, he offered a nod of reassurance in the same way he had at the altar. They were not lovers, but they had settled on the agreement of working together. To whatever end.

Standing, Vaella allowed her chair to be pulled back by a servant as she turned to the ones bearing the gifts. 

In the first girl hands was a dress. It was charcoal black and crimson red, the colors of her new house. A beautiful red dragon has embroidered down the front of it, wings displayed proudly. Most of her clothing bearing a dragon in its fibers always had a white dragon, for her Opalia. Regardless, it was a beautiful piece.

"Thank you, my lord," Vaella dipped her head to Aenar in thanks. And then Valaena. "My lady."

"We are family now, love," Valaena smiled. "Formalties have no place here now. Please, names work well enough."

Vaella dipped her head in understanding, forcing a weak smile on her lips. She was incredibly tired. And wanted to be nowhere except her bed with her cat. Not forcing pleasantries at a small feast she didn't want to be at.

The next servant girl stepped forward, pushing a small cart bearing an intricately crafted wire cage. Inside, a gorgeous bird of varying shades of blues, greens, yellows, and oranges roosted. It was rather large, likely standing a few inches above her head if it were roosted on her shoulder.

The sight of the animal invoked a true reaction of appreciation from Vaella as she managed to drop her troubked demeanor. She looked between the wires of the cage with admiration, a grin forming on her lips.

"Hello," she murmured. She'd always held a special place for animals.

"Hello!" The bird replied back in clear High Valyrian. Vaella gasped in surprise, a giggle escaping her throat. 

"It can talk!" Daenys exclaimed from where she sat, seemingly as excited as Vaella.

"The bird came from the islands near Sothoryos," Aenar informed Vaella. "They are said to be able to hold entire conversations once they have learned their given language."

"The continent said to never end," Daevara hummed, looking to Vaella. "A wonderful gift, is it not?"

Vaella nodded. The bird had most definitely uplifted her spirits and would stand as a welcome companion as she settled into Dragonstone.

She bid her new companion farewell until she would find it in her chambers, and cart was then rolled away by the servant and Vaella her new pet

Lastly, the third servant girl offered Vaella a greyish-brown wooden box. It was long in shape, its angles sharp like the facets of a gemstone. As she undid the latch, a slight gasp escaped her lips. 

Lying on a bed of crimson velvet, a Valyrian steel dagger lied ready to be worn but its new bearer. It's hilt and handle looked draconic in nature, black and gold scale-like indentations tapering into a sharp pommel. A red ruby sat near the blades base, glistening in the torch light. The ripples along the blade swirled like woodsmoke, no angle or shape the same.

Delicately, Vaella lifted the blade from the velvet. It was surprisingly light in her grip, almost as if the blade itself bore no weight itself.

Maegon had told her a time or two just how sharp the steel was. Fashioned with magic by the fire mages with dragon fire, the edge crafted was unmatched by any other weaponsmith.

Vaella lifted the blade to examine it closer. Just as she was entranced by the bird, she was entranced by her new blade. She was unaware of the slight smirk Gaemon held from where he remained seated by her.

"I commissioned it the moment I learned you would be joining our house," Aenar beamed as Vaella set the blade back on the bed of crimson velvet. 

"A fine weapon," Vaenar said. "We can only hope you may never need to put it to use."

Vaella hoped she would never have to as well.

♜

SERVANTS had lit an innumerable amount of candles in the chambers Vaella followed Gaemon into. They emitted a soft glow on the stone walls, along with a steady fire crackling in the hearth that made the room warm despite the keeps typical chilly atmosphere. 

As her eyes grazed over her surroundings, they landed on the four-poster bed laying in wait for them. Freshly made and precisely made, it almost felt a sin to ruffle up the sheets and furs. 

"I won't force you to bed me tonight if you do not wish," Gaemon said as he began undoing his feast doublet. He doesn't reach toward his breeches, she noticed, instead leaving them and a white cotton undershirt on. "But if you would like to, I will happily oblige."

She expected to feel incredibly uncomfortable around him in such an intimate setting, especially after he so liberally spoke of them lying together. She was expecting the urge to layer on more clothing to further protect herself from the anxiety that should be consuming her. But the longer they stood in the room, closed off from the rest of the world, curiosity crept over her.

Perhaps she was interested in this man she'd only met, if not only for the physical pleasure he might offer her. Partaking in the marriage act was remaining loyal to her vow to Maegon, the vow to protect their house and whatever way she could. By being the wife she now was.

Vaella wanted to feel something good. Something other than the pain and anguish that had consumed her during the moons since Maegon's untimely death. Gaemon was a reasonable man, one who'd already offered level ground between them, at least as level as he could offer. Aside from his direction on the moral compass, Gaemon was handsome.

"I wish to bed you."

The words slipped from her mouth as if she held no control over it. When he looked at her in surprise, she felt like she'd hardened to stone.

Did I really just say that?

"You do?" Gaemom asked with a raised brow. His indigo gaze narrows on her as if she'd only been jesting.

Despite her heart pounding once again for the unnumbered time that day, she stuck to her courage and nodded.

"I do. But I do not know what I am doing. Or what is expected of me."

Gaemon chuckled lightly, crossing his arms. "Perhaps then it is I who will be bedding you."

Her stomach twisted at his words. Not in a bad way, like when she'd found herself sick after a meal cooked wrong. No, her stomach leaped in what felt like curiosity. Excitement. Heat seemed to flare throughout her body in response.

"Perhaps," she uttered. It felt as if her words were hard to form on her lips and tongue. Growing intensely aware of the short distance between herself and Gaemon, Vaella drew in a shuddery breath. There would be no turning back, once again. "If you are to be the one bedding me, then let's proceed."

Vaella felt bold. Bolder than she'd ever been in her life. As if she was shedding the skin of her old self, the version of her that had only ever known the Valyrian capital and the life she led there. This new version of Vaella was ready to begin to journey of discovering a new purpose in life. Discovering more about herself.

"As you wish," Gaemon murmured.

As he closed the distance between them both, Vaella had to force herself to not shrink in on herself for protection.

Gaemom was tall and muscular and had a predatory sense about his gait. He would not hurt her, she knew. The thought of what he would do to her danced along her mind, excitement flaring once again.

"May I undress you?" Gaemon asked.

Wordlessly, Vaella nodded, before turning and pulling her long hair to her chest, exposing the bindings of her corset to him. She felt his hands begin to work through them, almost with a familiarity.

"You know what you're doing," she murmured half to him, half to herself. It was a statement, not a question, as her observation began to strike her.

Of course, he did. He was a man. She could not expect him to hold his virtue for whatever woman he would marry. 

"I have lied with other women, yes," Gaemon replied. "Even though we live so far from the capital does not mean we do not visit. Nor does it mean the pleasure houses are not within our reach while there."

Some twinge of jealousy flared through her. It was brief, as she focused on his continual work at her coresetted dress. There was no right for her to be angry with him. But reason was not always her strong suit.

"I see."

Gaemon hummed a response. "That displeases you," he stated. She said nothing, and he sighed. "If it is any relief on your mind, our vows have bound me to you and you alone."

Vaella could not stifle the scoff she emitted. "Lords take mistresses all the time."

"I am not your average lord. Nor do I like deviating far from my moral path." The corsetting was entirely loosened by then, the tension around her torso loosening. The lack of pressure whipped her back into her state of surprise as one of Gaemon's fingers then trailed down the depressed line that was her spine. She shivered in response, still clinging to her dress in the front. "And as I said, I am bound to you."

Before she realized what was happening, Gaemon had twirled her body around to face him. Their faces were inches apart, his wine-tinged breath mingling with her own. There was no sign of drunkenness in his indigo gaze, but there was something else Vaella could not place. Was it lust? She wondered.

"How do you think you like to be bedded?" Gaemon asked, voice low. 

Something vaguely familiar lingered in her, aching somewhere between her legs. It throbbed and heated, a demand she'd only ever seen when she kissed Maegon. Or in her dreams, when her mind had taken liberty during her slumber. 

His hands gripped her around the waist now, one touching the bareness of her lower back and the other dangerously close to her bottom. He looked at her as if a ravenous wolf ready to rip her apart. The harshness of it all lit a fire in her, making her wanting for more. It made her excited. 

This aggression he was showing her, she liked it.

"I like whatever you are doing right now," she uttered, unable to meet his gaze as she desperately wished to smash her lips against his. 

Her husband chuckled. "Well, my Lady, I would be happy to oblige to your pleasure. If only you allow me the liberty of doing as I see fit."

By Meleys, Vaella thought. May this man take me in whatever way he wishes.

As quickly as Vaella nodded, Gaemon pressed his lips to hers.

She could not suppress the moan that built in her throat and escaped as his hand fully enveloped her rear end. His grasp was needy as if he was trying all he could to palm her entirely.

Gaemon's hand that had been holding her lower back then pulled her dress from her hands and dropped it to the floor, exposing her fully to him. He groaned at the site, which invoked a hungry, ravenous need inside her.

As if he was capable of reading her mind, Gaemon lifted her to straddle him. He palmed her ass with both of his hands and carried her toward the bed. Their incessant need for each other did not waver as their lips continued to work against each other.

Gaemon pulled away his blouse quickly, exposing toned muscles. His arms, chest, and stomach held considerable angles, a testament to his efforts in the training yard. His boots and trousers followed soon after, until he was fully bare to her as well. 

Something told her that her husband was blessed. His member was considerable in length, a length she found herself delighted by. But it was not his member that began to work on her, but his fingers instead.

He pushed her legs apart until she was entirelt exposed to him. As two fingers plunged into her center, Vaella let loose a cry she did not know she was capable of making. Only once his mouth closed over one of her nipples did she think she might melt into nothing.

He worked diligently. As if he were a merely a man working on his craft he'd been partaking in for years. And Vaella thought she was going to come undo sooner rather than later at that rate as which he was working on her.

When his mouth sucked harder and his fingers began to plunge deeper, an ascentent pleasure racked her body like the rumbles that sometimes emanated from the Fourteen Fires. The great, earth rattling that would shake the capital.

She had never experienced something so pleasurable in her life. And her husband had done that without touching her with his now engorged member.

Moving between her legs, he smashed his lips against hers. She felt him begin to insert himself into her as he said, "This may hurt for a moment. Trust me."

When she nodded, he pushed forward.

The initial pain was sharp, enough to make her gasp in confusion, but the feeling that came afterwards was pleasant. Only after he'd assured she was not in pain any longer did he begin pounding.

The rate at which his hips slammed into her was enough that she was forced to push her hands against the headboard, or otherwise find herself with a ghastly bump on her scalp the next morning.

He took her aggressively and her moaning was intermittent with each thrust. With each each thrust, he buried himself inside her to the hilt.

Climax soon found them as a pressure build inside her again. This time was different, as the fullness of him was almost better than his fingers.

They both found their pleasure at the same time. As she moaned with ectasy, he groaned with what almost seemed like hard earned relief. Vaella felt him release his seed into her, something she'd only been educated on briefly when she'd come of age.

He slumped down over her, the both of them covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Vaellia lied there, the most content she had been in moons. Regret did not fill her as her husband rolled off of her and onto her side. No, she was pleased. Somehow, it was feeling as if they'd done this many times before.

"Did I meet your satisfaction?" Gaemom asked, slightly out of breath.

Vaella glanced over, a slight grin tugging at the corner of her lips. "Again."

Gaemon guffawed, but chuckled. "A greedy thing, I see?" He asked. Scooting closer to her, he kissed her. And she kissed him back.