75

2 months later…

Two months had passed since the siege, and all was quiet; it seemed the long breath before taking the plunge, the forges rang, and the soldiers trained still there nought heard from Sauron.

It was rather queer, but he like many reckoned that the Lord of Mordor wished to gather all Evils to him, and they could scarcely march upon the Black Gate for not in Arda could breach its iron walls, so they must wait. 

In these last two months, many of the Elves that had accompanied his Star had gone North heeding Gil-Galad's summons, while Galadriel had done much the same as she had before advising him on matters of court and war soon she, alongside his grandmother, became his mos trusted advisors even greater than Azruben doubtless, enjoying their closeness as did he. Nevertheless, he knew that she wished to keep an eye on him after the forging of Anariel though he could hardly blame her that blade was his deadliest creation, and it would do little good should he try to forge another.

For their part, the rest of his beloveds wished to aid him in the wars to come, so Arianne, his sister, Dany and Arya rose each morning before the sun had crested the mountains and took to the training yards for hour after hour they trained with sword, shield and any other weapon, til weariness overcame them, and their shoulders and arms were bruised a sickly purple from the blows. Although he was gladdened they wished to become warriors true, the thought of them marching to war filled him with dread; still, there was nought Jon could say to discourage them.

So when he was not troubled by the thoughts of war or the shackles of governance, he would often join them in the sparring yards; this pleased them, especially his sister, though she had not forgotten the mockery faced for her and Arya's deeds yet it seemed all was forgiven, she gladly met him in battle whether with Dramborleg or the Axe of Mithril, no doubt she hoped to avenge the indignity of wearing a dress. However, it wasn't a mere contest of arms as his sister promised if he bested her thrice, she would allow him to do whatever he desired each night.

Arianne and Daenerys were much the same as Rhaenys though they honestly wished to become skilled in their own right; he suspected they desired to spend as much time with him as they could before he was called forth to war, often arousing the ire of Shiera and Ashara who were often away in the Houses of Healing.

Of all his loves, Lalwen was the one who acted the most as if she were his honest wife, directing the servants in the care of the City; often times she was accompanied by Sansa, who was unhesitating to aid in whatever way was best much to his Lalwen's ire though she could hardly refuse the help as many refugees came to the City before heading northward to Arnor. Regardless, the spirit of comradery did little to quiet their rivalries; he could hardly hope for such miracles.

Arya was still brash as one could expect, yet Jon noticed a subtle change in her gone was the wild woman of her youth; she seemed grave and thoughtful, but stern as steel even her manner of speech changed far more proper, almost like a Lady… He truly hoped that Arya would change her ways. She was no longer a child and the time to act as such was long past. So he thought to test her resolve and appointed her Captain of the Guard.

Her task being the good order of the city, Arya thanked him sincerely for the show of trust and kissed him on the cheek, much to his shock as Arya seldom offered affection even to her own kin.

Nevertheless, Arya quickly embraced her new position with pride though there were some troubles as the Men of Osgiliath grumbled and grumped that one so young should be the Castellan of their chiefest city, some openly questioned his choice, yet the prospect of war and the support of Anárion swiftly silenced such grievances.

As for his beloved silver dragon and amethyst jewel, both had been entirely occupied teaching new healers and the brewing of poultices and potions. It was cruel to be parted from them for so long, yet he was immensely proud that his beloveds did so much to aid the city, and so he took the flower of Nimloth and set it in a silvery ball of crystal tempered by Vhagar's flames it was a remarkable creation that when struck by the light of the moon shone as a lamp in the dark.

Shiera and Ashara were pleased by the gift and thanked him each night often times together, though it was rather cruel as they could seldom outlast him, and each still had duties each morning.

Shiera had set the orb on a plinth in her room and often took it out at night so all could bask in its silvery glow; of course, this bauble pleased the elves immensely, who held great reverence for Nimloth and the Moon many a night he had caught at least a dozen of them huddled outside the windows of his dragons' chambers dancing, drinking and making merriment by is glow.

Rhaella often stayed at his side, acting as his councillor chiefly in the matters of provisioning the city and the collection of taxes his grandmother was wise in peace and now proved courageous in war; undoubtedly, she and Galadriel would be his chiefest supporters in the dark days ahead.

Alas, of all his lovers, Rhaella had shared his bed the least in the last months as her duties often had her labouring late into the night. By that time, he was either indisposed or tending to other matters arousing the ire of his proud grandmother. Indeed, the few times they had shared a bed, she had often been spirited riding him till her thighs were bruised and her bosom peppered with love bites, something she greatly relished.

King Elendil had spent the last months in communication with Himself and Anárion; fortunately, his King had said nought of punishment, and Jon wasn't keen to remind him. He knew the old Lord wasn't to be trifled with, but all was not lost, for Elendil had sent word that emissaries from Annuminas would come south to act as an escort for himself and his family when they came North.

His last orders were to treat them well, and though Jon was curious what his Lord meant, Elendil said no more on the matter, merely wishing him a safe journey when the time came.

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'That's... Up... Up... That's it, we're done ...' Jon said happily, watching as two of his men set the last great stone in place, and with that, the Walls of Osgiliath were completed.

It was a glorious feeling knowing he had made the City a fortress of Westernesse even greater still as his family was here to witness such a triumph; to his left stood Rhaenys, and on his right, Lalwen stood beaming with pride.

'They are beautiful walls Nin Mel …' Írimë said, pecking him on the lips, and Rhaenys was not to be outdone, kissing him passionately, all the while glaring ruefully at Írimë.

'Írimë is right, dear brother… You did an exceptional job,' Rhaenys said, caressing his face lovingly; fortunately, where once they would have squabbled, it seemed after a century of loathing, his sister and Írimë had come to an accord much to his happiness.

'Aye, Jon, they shall break upon our Walls like water upon rock; you have my gratitude and friendship,' Anárion said heartily, admiring the walls of his ancient Capital.

'Thank you, King Anárion… My work is done for the moment … Is there news of your father and his Emissaries?' Jon asked, relishing the praise of his companions and King.

'Yes... He is marshalling his troops as is Gil-Galad though it shall take time to assemble such a host; in two years' time, they shall meet at the tower of Amon Sul, and as for his emissaries, they will be here soon, although I pity them, for the long trip they are making and the short time they will be here.' Anárion said sagely.

'A shrewd move, marching as a harmonious army… Although it will be a tremendous task to arm so many for war,' Jon acknowledged lamenting the trials of such a task.

'Aye, Elendil is a masterful warrior and general though I wish your mind was not troubled by thoughts of war but rather to celebrate the fruits of your many labours.' Galadriel said unexpectedly.

'My Star?...' Jon asked, shocked, eyeing his dearest suspiciously while she gazed at him lovingly.

'I have known you for many decades now, and just when I think I know all there is to know about you, my love, yet even after all these years, you continue to surprise me; this City shall be our home for many centuries hence though I hope you haven't forgotten your promise to me regarding Celebrian' Galadriel said sweetly, and he reddened in embarrassment.

But before he could answer, Lalwen kissed him roughly, ending his conversation with Galadriel as her tongue snaked its way into his mouth.

'Lalwen …' Jon growled vexingly, but she gave him a scornful look and eyed the others evilly. But, alas, he knew well her intentions.

'Aye, my love, I know it is your turn!' Jon acknowledged, and he heard Lalwen's melodious laughter in his mind.

'Thank you, Nin Mel.'  Lalwen said, chortled merrily though her countenance turned sour as Rhaenys kissed him again.

'Perhaps I should flee lest I'm caught between them.' Jon thought nervously as he thought as Írimë and Rhaenys eyed each other ruefully. Indeed, he saw that Shiera, Ashara, and even his grandmother looked wholly displeased with Írimë's boldness though he could hardly blame them; his dearest flower was fiery and passionate even after all these years but tended to act a child when it came to their love.

fortunately, Anárion proved his worth as a friend. 'Well, Jon... what shall you do now? Will you return to the armouries or endeavour to train the soldiery?' Anárion asked happily.

Anárion's question caught them unawares, and the coming argument was swiftly forgotten as all eyes fell upon him.

'Thank you, my King.' Jon thought, grateful for the kindness of his friend.

'That's a fair question, Jon,' Isildur said unexpectedly.

'Forgive me, but what do you mean?' Jon asked.

'You have toiled long to ready our city for war whether upon the wall, in the forge or in the tilt yard none could ask more of you… I think you have earned a respite, Jon,' said Isildur gladly, his voice sufficed with fondness.

'But my King… The Dark Lord has declared war upon us,' cried Jon 'there is much still to do and little time to do it.'

'My brother is right, Jon; you have done much for our City, or Kingdom and people, our armouries are well provisioned our soldiers the pride of Middle Earth we can asl no more of you my friend, so I beg you enjoy what time you have before we march to war,' Anárion said placing a hand on his shoulder.

No sooner had Anárion said that his lady loves glanced at him joyfully... after these laborious months, they all deserved a furlough and his attention.

'Surely, there is more I can do!' Jon said, but Lalwen frowned and swatted his arm playfully.

'My beloved, the City is in good hands, and there is nought more you can do save storm the Dark Tower yourself… So it is only right that you should rest,' Írimë said gloomily, and he knew he couldn't deny his beloved such an appeal.

'Fine... Fine, I'll rest... until we must leave for Annuminas though if our fortunes turn ill, I will resume my duties...' Jon said earnestly, and the princes nodded while Jon's loved ones smiled cheerfully.

'A wise choice Nin Mel ... Now, come with me; it's been too long since we've been alone,' Lalwen said merrily, trying to lead him away, but their way was barred by Rhaenys.

'By the Valar!... Why must he go with you?' Rhaenys growled as Írimë glared at his sister defiantly.

'I persuaded him to take his furlough... and by the laws of Elves, I am his lawful wife... so Dear sister, I will go first,' Lalwen said boldly, glancing at her rivals in joyous glee.

They all saw as Rhaenys face reddened, yet where once she would've frothed in rage, she merely laughed. 

'Fine… Witch, but remember you but one day… Then it will be my turn,' said Rhaenys; she then kissed him sweetly before re-joining their grandmother.

This was wholly odd as Rhaenys would sooner parade nude before the slavers of Lys than concede anything to Írimë.

Alas, all good things must end Arianne and Dany, seizing their chance, draw him away from Írimë, and soon the fights began anew.

'Thank you, my Kings, I shall repay you for your kindness.' thought Jon angrily. Isildur had the good sense to appear regretful though none could mistake the mirth in his eyes, while Anárion laughed heartily though his merriment was swiftly ended when his wife struck him on the arm.

'Well, Jon… We'll let you rest so… Well, spend the rest of your time with your family… But first, I would beg a favour.' Isildur said now, thoughtfully.

'What is?' Jon asked curiously, and Isildur smiled before removing his gauntlet and handing it to him; then drew Ithiel from her scabbard, and all understood what it meant according to the code of chivalry.

A challenge… A duel between two knights.

All were surprised by Isildur's gesture save Galadriel, for she had long known the mind of Elendil's heir; he had longed hoped to test his strength against Jon's, and it seems now the perfect chance.

'King Isildur …' Jon said, surprised, but joy was in his heart; it had been too long since crossing blades with a worthy foe.

'I know, it may seem foolish, but long have I wished to duel an Emissary of the Valar and to test Moon Daughters sting... doubly so when I learned that Glorfindel was your master at arms though you may refuse, I daresay I shall find no better opponent in all of Osgiliath! Nay our kingdom', Isildur said with a slight bow.

'I am honoured to be held in such high regard by you, my King, and I accept your challenge gladly... though I shall not make it easy for you,' said Jon and the followers of Isildur glowered at him, no doubt displeased by his cheek.

'Do it, and I will order you flogged; now go and rest… I wish you renewed for our fight,' Isildur said merrily.

'As you wish, my King,' Jon said.

'I must caution you, brother, that our Prince is a prodigious warrior… We have only fought once! by the Valar, we were young, but even then, the Lords of the Havens remarked upon his skillfulness,' Said Anárion smiling, eager to see their contest.

'In fact… I heard that even the Lady Galadriel was defeated in a similar practice….' Isildur said, glancing at Galadriel, whose countenance had turned sour, recalling how Jon had bested her handily indeed; he had to smother his laughter while his Star glared at him ruefully.

'Aye, brother, it's true he also claimed the ladies spear, rather daring yet wholly discourteous Jon!' Anárion said naively, unaware of the wager between lovers, and Jon was unsettled.

'Indeed, it was a rude thing on Prince Jon's part... one which I have forgiven him for long ago, Anárion, Son of Elendil... though he may require another lesson in humbleness,' Galadriel said evilly, glancing at him while his kin laughed merrily at his expense.

'I warned you that you would pay for your audacity to take my spear, my Wolf,' Galadriel said happily.

'Silence my Star, that wager was your idea!' Jon mumbled angrily, but he heard nought but her laughter and grumbled in anger.

Forgive me; I think we've caused a stir between the two,' Isildur said, glancing at his two guests.

'Don't fret, both of you, tis merely a game between my niece and my Nin Mel ...' Írimë said, amused by the display.

'Jon shouldn't act such a child, especially around her!' Sansa growled; her eyes alight with the jealously she held for Galadriel.

'Aye, my dear, alas, we've known Jon's temperament for years, and it's best we leave it alone', Rhaella said wearily, though Sansa could hear the vexation in her tone.

'Well, in that case, since our dearest has more time for us, perhaps he can fashion me a new Tiara,' Shiera said happily as Ashara hit her on the head.

'Shiera!' growled Ashara, displeased with her lovers' greed and struck her arm.

'Ugh... You're vicious, Ash,' Shiera retorted and pinched her cheek in recompense; soon, the two were quarrelling, much to Jon's amusement though his grandmother hid her face in mortification.

'Ah, You Westerosi are a most hardy folk,' Anárion said, amused by the japes of his oldest companions.

'You will get used to it soon 'Son of Elendil '... 'Galadriel said with a cheerful smile, recalling the words spoken by Glorfindel those many years ago.

'Cease your quarrelling, my dears, or mayhaps you should sojourn to the kennels?' Jon asked evilly, and immediately they halted, turning to him with fear in their eyes.

'You wouldn't dare!' Shiera whimpered, not believing her beloved would force such an undignified task upon her.

'Do you wish to test me, dearest?' He threatened, smiling as Shiera and Ashara went pale.

'It's not necessary, my love... We were merely jesting...' Ashara promised before kissing him rather forcefully, no doubt hoping to quell his anger.

'I hope so, my sweet Lily... As for Shiera 's request, I see no concern in fulfilling it as long as she behaves...' Jon said happily, and Shiera squealed in joy for her good fortune.

'Truly?' Ashara asked in surprise.

'Yes, but I think I'll go to the docks first and start building a ship, long have I been parted from the Sea, and my heart cries out to hear the sound of the waves...' Jon said, longing for the Great Sea or rather the Anduin's fierce currents.

'You have a strange opinion of what it is to rest my white Wolf...' Arianne giggled.

'I agree with Arianne, Nin Mel,' Írimë said, striking him gently on the chest.

'For me, that is rest Nin Mel; it fills my heart with joy to hammer the mast, tend the forge or compose a verse,' Jon said, wearied after such toil as was forced upon him.

'Well, it seems that first, you need to rest... You look unsettled,' Daenerys said, worried for her nephew.

'Aye, I need to get some sleep.' Jon said, suddenly wearied.

'Then go and rest, Jon. I'm in no hurry for our duel; that can wait a day or two, and I think a celebration is in order for all we've done though I fear it shall be the last one for a long time,' Isildur said sombrely.

'I think Arianne may be the right person for that,' Rhaella said, smiling as she saw the Dornish Princess frown as her duties would keep her from Jon.

'Yes, it's a pleasing thought, grandmother!' Rhaenys said, glancing at her cousin evilly.

Arianne growled, looming over Rhaenys, who smiled mockingly, but Jon embraced her before she could utter a curse.' Please, my dear viper, your parties and banquets are always a delight for everyone... And I feel this will be our last one in a long time.'

'Very well, my Wolf, I'll do it for you... Now go rest...' Arianne said, standing on tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.

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Returning to his rooms, he found maids of the household waiting for him; upon seeing their Lord, the maids sprang into action, drawing a hot bath, laying out a pitcher of wine and arranging the bed in case he wished to sleep. Jon thanked them and quietly disrobed before slipping into the tub; the warm waters were particularly soothing, scented with jasmine and lavender.

After finishing his bath, he slipped into a nightshift and lay under the furs, reckoning one of his loves would come for him, and he was proven right when the door to his chamber was thrown open a moment later.

Daenerys entered dressed in a sheer silken gown; she carried with her a small flask of scented oils, and he was glad while he enjoyed the touch of Lalwen and Galadriel, Dany's tender caresses could never be replaced.

'I was waiting for you, my sweet Dany,' he said with a smile while his beloved aunt blushed.

'You know me well, nephew,' she said, drawing him into a heated kiss; their tongues duelled for a while, yet he won out, and soon Dany was mewling and moaning as he peppered her neck and lips with sweet kisses.

'Are you nervous…' She asked merrily.

'You know me well… I longed for your touch!' Jon said with a smile, and Daenerys kissed him lovingly once more.

'Turn on your back, my dear nephew… Let me serve you,' Daenerys said sweetly, her eyes glittering in lustful mirth.

'I've yearned for your touch,' Jon whispered, enjoying the sweet aroma of the oil and the tenderness of his aunt's delicate hands.

'By the Valar nephew, each time I massage you, it seems you grow tenser than the last time,' Daenerys said worriedly as she released another knot from his neck.

'Forgive me, Dany; I've seldom let myself a moment to rest since the War began,' Jon said gloomily. Daenerys frowned, for all the joys of her nephews' life none had come without sacrifice, and once more, they must bear the burdens brought forth by the shadow, but none of that mattered she could do her part to ease these burdens.

She spent the next hour tending to her nephew, loosening his muscles, and removing the knots that riddled his back; all the while, Jon groaned and gasped in appreciation.

'Ahh, this is where I belong, healing my dearest nephews hurts,' Daenerys thought happily.

But the idyllic moment was disturbed when the door opened again, and in strolled a shocked Írimë though her countenance quickly soured; she had known her husband would be attended by one of the girls she hadn't thought to find him like this.

'Oh... I see I interrupted you,' said Írimë gruffly, latching the door so that no one could enter, something that Daenerys cursed herself for not doing; it seems she must be mindful of in the future.

'Yes… Although I was about to finish.' Daenerys moaned, returning to the task at hand.

'Well met, Nin Mel …' Jon said warily, seeing his dearest carried a bundle of cloth in her arms, but she huffed, not deigning to meet his gaze.

'I thought to find you alone, Nin Mel. Don't you have to say anything?' Lalwen said, vexed by her dragon's circumstances.

'Well...' Jon groaned, relishing his closeness with Dany; alas, Írimë's glare soured the mood.

'What's wrong, Nin Mel?' Jon asked, vexed by her interruption, though he saw the parcel in her arms.

'I've come to give you a gift, my foolish dragon!' Írimë retorted, Dany laughed at the elf's cheek, though Írimë sneered and opened the parcel.

She then revealed an elven robe of a golden colour that seemed to glimmer like the embers of the sun upon the chest was sewn a tree of great loveliness; its green leaves were edged with gold, and its flowers were like to clusters of yellow flame, upon seeming sich beauty Jon and Daenerys gasped in wonderment.

'What do you think?' Írimë giggled, quite proud of her work.

'It's beautiful...' Daenerys said, enraptured by the robe.

'It's... It's wonderful, Nin Mel,' Jon said, amazed by his dearest skill.

'Thank you… I was inspired by a raiment worn by my great uncle, King Ingwë; it to was woven by his wife. Do you see the decorations? They represent Laurelin since my mother's people held a deep love for the Two Trees.' Lalwen said, quite pleased with herself.

'And I assume there is another that embodies Telperion …' Jon said, sure of the answer, and Írimë laughed gayly.

'Yes, although my niece insisted on weaving it herself, you know how Artanis adores things of white and silver, she favoured to knit you a robe over representing Telèrion… it is for you to wear to the party tonight, oh, Nin Mel with this you will look like a true Lord of the Vanyar!' Írimë said dreamily, and he smiled for the love of her gesture.

'I shall wear it, my Songbird,' Jon groaned as he felt Dany press hard into his back.

'It's not my intention to make you feel lesser, Dany,' Jon said, sensing her anger.

'We'll see about that, dear nephew,' Daenerys growled, glancing at Lalwen with admiration and anger in equal measure.

'I'm sorry, Daenerys, I didn't mean to interrupt your time with my Husband,' Lalwen said daringly, revealing she cared little for interrupting them.

'Very Well, now will you please leave?' Daenerys asked irritably, and Lalwen was silent for a few moments.

'No, this is my chambers as well... I'll stay here and see you relieve our beloved's pain,' Írimë said, sitting on the edge of the bed and Daenerys glowered at her angrily.

'Do as you wish, but be warned, I plan to do more than soothe his pains,' Dany said with a wicked smile as Lalwen looked at her coldly.

'I didn't know you were as insolent as Rhaenys, Daenerys… I remind you that you're in my bed,' Lalwen snarled jealously.

'It is yours for the truth our host did not wish to offend you,' Dany replied, resuming her massage.

'Please do not quarrel!' Jon groaned, but they dismissed him.

'Silence Nin Mel … This is between your aunt and me… Írimë turned back to Daenerys. 'I do not wish to torment you as I do with Rhaenys.'

'Neither do I desire your ire, but I've waited too long to be with him!' Daenerys said, peppering his neck with kisses.

'Thank you for your kindness, Dany,' Jon said happily; turning to Dany, she kissed him greedily while Írimë glared at them enviously.

'Now... It's time for the second part of my scheme, dear nephew,' Daenerys said mischievously as she glanced at Írimë, pleading for her to leave, but the Princess of the Noldor shook her head.

Dany groaned, accepting that Írimë would stay to watch them swiftly discarding her gown bearing her buxom form to them both though Írimë said nothing, merely cleaning her nails, disinterested in the mortal girl although her eyes betrayed a particular anxiousness.

'Okay, okay... It's your turn ...' Jon said resignedly, glancing at Lalwen apologetically.

'Well… I won't be greedy as Rhaenys… I shall go first, Írimë,' Daenerys said, kissing him again, feeling eager knowing that she was being watched by a Princess of the Noldor, as far as she knew that Elves didn't indulge in such depravities and hoped perhaps Írimë would leave.

Alas, her thoughts were interrupted when Jon gently slid his cock inside her cunt; fortunately, whatever pain she may have felt being so filled was abated by the slickness of her maidenhood.

Jon fucked his aunt with eagerness, her large arse smacking against his thighs; they made love as dragons writhing, groaning their tongues duelling fiercely as he thrust ever more swiftly, and soon his thighs were stained with her juices.

For a moment, He reflects on what Daenerys was like when they met. She had been so young then, a girl desperate to find a home, so endearing and naive, yet their time in Middle-Earth had changed her considerably; gone was the wistful maiden who cowered under her brothers' rages and in her place blossomed a voluptuous, sensual, and passionate woman.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as Dany rode his cock faster and faster, eager to meet his thrusts halfway. Jon smiled and smacked her fleshy arse, and his aunt wailed in pleasure before slumping forward, wholly sated.

They knew they had an audience, but at the moment, neither he nor Dany cared. No, this was their love shared gloriously in that moment; it was as if the world ceased and nought lived save themselves. Gazing into Dany's amethyst orbs, he wondered what came after Sauron's downfall.

But what shall he do after? Perhaps travel to the faraway places of the world seeking adventure as a wandering warrior or mayhaps return to the Grey Havens and study with his master once more.

Yet as he thought on the matter, Jon truly knew what his heart desired a faraway dream of boyhood that seemed so foolish to have a family who loved him, sons and daughter who called him father to grow old with his loves and raise his children in peace and comfort far from the horrors of the world.

That will surely drive the Noldor mad to see Lalwen and Galadriel bear his children... he wouldn't like to consider what their kin might say, especially King Finarfin and Lord Ingwe.

Yet all thoughts of the future were drowned out when he heard a throaty moan from the foot of the bed; it was his sweet Lalwen who was now wholly flushed and drenched in sweat, one hand teasing her full bosom while the other teased the lips of her maidenhood.

Seeing the lust in her green eyes, he extended a hand to her, and Lalwen quickly approached him, kissing him fiercely while Daenerys, already sated, groaned in vexation and slid off him, permitting Lalwen to take her place.

'It's been a while, my beloved Lalwen ...' He began to say, though Írimë quickly silenced him. 'Not now, Jon... Just kiss me and love me, claim me my dragon!'

Lalwen wrapped her soft hands about his cock and began caressing him unhurriedly. He groaned in appreciation, feeling his beloved deft hands stroke him with a skill few could rival. She kissed and licked him, soon it was shimmering in spit. 'By the Valar, my Songbird, your hands are without rival!' Seemingly pleased by his words, Írimë kissed the head of his cock, her spit and Dany's essence let her stroke him faster as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth.

She gave him cock one last lick before drawing him into another kiss; he embraced her lovingly before pulling her on top of him Lalwen was ever the proper maiden, yet when they were alone, she was as bawdy as any wench he had ever seen, and it filled him with fierce love to know her heart belonged to him.

'Lalwen, come sit on my cock; I desire to feel your warmth,' He growled. Írimë smiled. 'As you wish, my beloved.' she reached down to grasp him, coating his manhood in her essence before they became one.

He fucked Írimë with an eagerness born of love, the sound of their coupling echoing throughout the chamber as her fleshy arse bounced against his thighs; soon, his manhood and groin were drowned in her honeyed nectar as his Songbird moaned in delight. 'Oh, by the Valar fuck me, my beloved dragon, conquer me!' hearing his Lalwen say such vulgar things lit a fire in his belly; he rose up and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, bringing her into for another lustful kiss.

Their coupling was beautiful and lustful as his thoughts turned to Írimë growing fat with his child, the first Peredhil since their ancestor Eärendil those many centuries ago. But, alas, in his heart, he knew their child would not be born for many more years. 

They made love for what felt like ages until, at last, Írimë wailed in pleasure, staining the sheets with her honeyed nectar; he was swift to follow, filling her womb with his seed Írimë rolled off and lay next to him and kissed him once more; she was tired and sated.

'At last, we have our time together... My Nin Mel,' Lalwen moaned happily, and Daenerys snorted.

'Only one week,' Dany said jealously before kissing him once more.

'Aye, but I shall make the most of it,' Lalwen complained, still clinging to his arm.

'Let us have a quick rest; we must regain our strength for tonight's party... And I want to wear the tunic you made for me, Lalwen,' Jon said, kissing the beautiful elf.

'We'd better rest now,' Daenerys said, curling up beside him and falling asleep.

'Don't you dare ignore me!' Lalwen growled angrily; alas, she was answered by snoring.

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