Maekar's Whore

You were to return briefly to your homeland as the wedding preparations continued. By coincidence, Baelor announced that he too, would be returning to King’s Landing that same morning to resume his duties. And so, both parties departed together.

The roads were long and unbearably hot beneath the summer sun. By sunset, the travelling company stopped at a nearby inn to rest. You were exhausted from hours trapped inside the carriage, your body aching from the journey.

That was when the maester approached you. He presented a small vial of crimson liquid, assuring you it would ease the soreness in your limbs and help you sleep. Trusting him, you drank it without a question.

Later that same night, Baelor overheard mention of the tonic. Plagued by one of his relentless headaches and worn thin by the suffocating summer heat, he asked the maester for the same remedy. And by a terrible, terrible mistake, the maester handed him the love potion meant for Daeron.

At first, nothing seemed amiss. The night carried on as any other. Supper was served, conversations dwindled, and one by one, the weary travellers retired to their chambers.

But as the night deepened and the world fell quiet, fate had already begun weaving the first threads of ruin.

It all started during the hour of the wolf. When you were supposed to be asleep, an unsettling feeling stirred within you. Your heart beat strangely against your chest, restless and anxious. Something you could not put into words. Unable to bear the suffocating feeling any longer, you wandered quietly to the back of the inn, seeking a moment of solitude away.

And there, too, coming from another direction, was Prince Baelor himself. As though some invisible string had been tied between you, pulling the two of you toward the same place.

Surprised by the sight of you, he paused. “What are you doing here at this hour, my lady?” his eyes studying you carefully. He looked anxious too.

“I- I needed some air,” you said. You had never been this close to the prince before. Never close enough to notice how striking he truly was beneath the dim glow of night - all sharp features, tanned skin, and quiet intensity. Your heart began to beat even harder than before.

"and you... what are you doing at this hour, your Grace?," you asked softly, voice beginning to tremble as the two of you drew closer.

“I might ask you the same question,” he murmured, shaking his head faintly. “But truthfully… I needed air as well.” He let out a quiet breath, chewing at his bottom lip trying to steady himself for what he would say next.

Then Baelor glanced toward the old wooden bench under the lantern glow before looking back at you once more. "...w- would you sit with me... for a while?”

You should have said no. What would people say if they found the future wife of Daeron sitting at such an hour with his uncle - the prince of the realm - with no one else in sight?

But before your mind could form the refusal, your heart had already answered for you. “Yes, of course,” you had said.

And so there you sat beneath a sky strewn with stars - talking longer than either of you ever had before, lingering closer than you should have, a strange flutter rising in your chest every time your eyes met. Shoulders brushed unintentionally. Knees kept bumping every time he leaned closer to whisper something in your ears. His hands would grazed yours. Sounds of giggles filled the open space. Something unspoken had begun to bloom between you.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

One thing lead to another and then another and then another. The slow, dangerous unraveling of restraint beneath the lantern glow and summer night air. You could not remember how the night ended. But you knew with certainty that Baelor’s face had been the last thing you saw before sleep finally claimed you. The result of a formidable potion.

When sunrise came, you opened your eyes to find yourself tucked under Baelor's arm, still in the same spot as last night. Hurried voices carried in from the distance.

"Where is she?!" A familiar voice, one of your ladies-in-waiting, wavered through the air.

"Prince Baelor is not in his room! Find him!" A rough command barked from one of the Kingsguard, and the neigh and thump of hooves began to fade toward the grounds.

When you lifted your head to look at Baelor, he had already been looking at you. He swallowed, eyes pleading for something - like he was screaming for something he did not dare say out loud. So you said it instead.

"I don't want to marry Daeron..." you whispered, begging him to see your pain. "Please, Baelor..." Tears began to pool behind your eyes.

He leaned forward and pressed your foreheads together, sending unspoken promises in a language only the two of you understood. "Then I will burn this kingdom," he said, eyes closing like a vow, "if it means making you mine instead."

he’s not gentle.

it had started gentle, as it usually did, but after pulling you apart on the flat of his tongue, followed by the stretch of two thick fingers, he knew exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it. good thing you liked it like that.

maekar curls you over the edge of the bed, your body completely bare as you bend and lay amongst the silks and furs. a strong, calloused hand holds the back of your neck, anchoring you to the feathered mattress as he stretches your pussy open around the thick of his cock.

he groans, feeling your pussy pull tight around him as he ruts in. silk walls draw inwards, heavy against the ridges along his shaft and the vein, pumping hot with blood, that runs along the underside. his other hand is a vice on your hip, dimpling the flesh as he forces you back onto him, the slapping sounds of skin-on-skin loud in the evening silence of your chambers.

you mewl into the sheets beneath you, a string of saliva already catching out the side of your mouth as your husband thrusts into you, the movements deep and far-reaching. heavy balls nudge against the swollen pearl of your clit, and you mewl again, startled, when the head of his cock punches up towards the plug of your cervix.

“don’t fuss,” maekar grumbles, rutting into you, eyes trailing down the line of your spine and over the curve of your arse as he holds you down by the nape. your pussy drools around him, his flushed shaft slick as he pulls out, then shoves back in. he groans, “fuck, you always take me so well, don’t you?”

he doesn’t really want a response when he questions you like this, cock splitting you open as he pins you to your shared bed. you gape, breathy moans falling free of your throat as your fingers tangle in the silken sheets and sweat builds tacky down your back and thighs. he listens to you gasp and mewl, a crooked smile on his face as he kneads the fat at your hip.

“how many times…” maekar begins, sentence breaking momentarily as the wet squelch of your cunt becomes audible in the flame-soaked silence, the open hearth flickering nearby. you whimper, and your husband groans. “will i have to spill in this tight cunt before you’re full, huh? how many times will she have to take me before you’re round with my child?”

you let out a pathetic sound, some mix of a gasp and a moan, the syllables showing some semblance of his name, but it’s lost in the heat of your pleasure. a third orgasm sparks at the ends of your nerves, flames flickering across the walls of your womb, deep in your pelvis.

maekar grunts, strands of white hair falling loose over his forehead, cheeks hued with pink beneath the candlelight. he palms the flesh of your arse now as the hand on your neck pushes you deeper against the bed.

“is that what you want, little dove?” he asks as his hips rock, the leaking head of his cock pushing right up against that perfect spot inside you. your back arches and you cry out his name, pussy fluttering as heat fills the base of your tummy. he grunts, continuing as you squirm. “you want me to fill you? spill deep inside this tight cunt ‘til she makes a right mess of herself, yeah?”

“maekar,” you manage out, and it’s low and tense and strung across a high-pitched moan. you fist the silks and furs for support as he rocks against you, bed creaking.

“i’m right here,” he whispers, barely audible over his hips slamming against your arse. the fingers on your neck give you a gentle squeeze, and you suck in a shallow breath. then, he groans, the thick of his cock sucked in tight as your pussy flutters around him. “oh, she wants it, little dove. wants me to fill her—wants me to make you a mother.”

you cry out at his words, your release strung taut across your sparking nerves. it’s right there, your entire body growing rigid beneath him as he spears you apart on his cock. you grow hot, and hotter still, tension deep through the lines of your pelvis as you angle your hips to meet his thrusts, heartbeat heavy in your clit.

maekar huffs and grunts behind you, his voice breaking across a poorly hidden whine. “fuck, fu-uh-ck, oh, little dove, here we go, here we go…”

he coaxes you through your orgasm as it ignites and overwhelms you. your body shakes, trembles like a picked flower, as heat bursts through your pelvis and the depths of your womb, your pussy squeezing tight around him. you moan, his name and his title up in the air around you, as stars burst behind your lowering lids and your legs threaten to give out.

but he’s not far behind you—as you come, he groans his praises, guiding you through the fissuring of pleasure with “that’s it, there we go” and “good girl, just like that” as he ruts his cock towards the base of your womb. with each thrust into you, slick dribbles out around his shaft, and he feels it along the seam of his balls as they draw up, visions of you fat with his child at the forefront of his mind.

maekar groans loudly. “gods, you’ll look perfect round with my child—fuck, i’ll be good to you, little dove, an’ i’ll keep you full all—the—fucking—time—” thrust, thrust, thrust, with each word, before he’s letting out a hoarse moan of your name and shoving himself to the hilt inside you.

he rolls his hips, sliding against you in lazy movements as he spills right against your cervix. still fizzling down from your own orgasm, you let out a shaky moan as he fills you, seed too warm in the base of your pelvis. his cock twitches, jerks inside you as your walls flutter, then pull him in even tighter as his seed fills you, fills you still, then settles.

he doesn’t pull out, but he collapses half way on top of you—the hand on your neck moving to bracket your head. you shift a little, panting as he plants a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth. you whine, turning your head to slide your lips to his. he grunts into your mouth as your tongues meet, and you taste yourself on him as your heart begins to slow beneath your ribs. he pulls away, resting his dewy forehead against your temple.

“it’ll take,” he says like he’s sure of it. like he knows it will.

“and if it doesn’t?” you counter through a mumble, limbs lax as you melt into the silks and furs, his body a firm press atop yours.

maekar chuckles. it’s a deep, low sound that vibrates through his chest, and it makes a little whine slip past your lips.

“then we keep trying,” he mutters, rolling his hips and nudging his cock deeper. you whimper, a shudder racking through you in response. he kisses your warm cheek. “i’ll fill you again and again, every fucking night, until you’re too full to even move… understood?”

you nod, words evading you as he noses your cheekbone, kissing you softly there too as his cock twitches where it sits deep, plugging you full of him.

———

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