It ends, as many assumed it would, not in Fire and Blood.
Arwyn of Houses Targaryen and Stark agrees weds Damocles of House Lannister on a bright sunny day, ending a war before it could being. Several conditions however were needed to be met, all of which would need to hashed out before the actual marriage and bedding itself.
First of all she would not surrender her name. Arwyn Targaryen would remain a Targaryen regardless of who she wed. Uncommon but the least of all the troubles. As the sole heir and surviving member it was something that was not up for debate.
Second, the Iron Throne, ghastly, uncomfortable look, and fearsome to the smallfolk would be melted down. In fact her dragons already had done so.
Third, the current pretender on the throne would be hereby removed. Or brunt to death via dragonfire; either way he would be gone, Arwyn would sit, and she would wed his son to ensure that no rebellion would come.
Of course there were more intimate details to follow, but those would wait.
“If you are to take a mistress or paramour, I do suggest you keep me in your bed when you do. If I disapprove, that person is replaced for one suitable for the both of us. For all parties involved I suggest this to be the best course possible.”
The slightly shocked look on Damocles face and the slow smirk gracing his lips means Arwyn’s plan works. Of course she knows her husband would not completely stay faithful, as men can be fickle, but she can compromise. After all she intends to keep her throne and is rather fond of her husband in regards to his performance in the marriage bed. But every now and then a bit of a change is good for the soul, so if they can share that together it lessens the fear that someone might seek her place.
Besides, she too as her appetites, and trusts her husband to pick ones that suit them both.
They’re dining alone tonight. A wave of her hand dismisses the servants leaving jus the two of them in her solar.
It is easy to read the expression on his face when she stands and walks over, draping her arm across his shoulders (deliciously broad and powerful and if she indulges watching him in the training yard, shirtless, and see the muscles ripple across his back, she tells no one).
“Come, certainly you would like for me to show just what fun this can be for the both of us?”
House Tyrell grates on her nerves for being backstabbers with fingers in every honey pot.
When Calliope comes to court with her family, and recently widowed Arwyn feels as if they make it their purpose in her life to ruin anything and everything good. Oh she knows the girl was supposed to marry Damocles, and knows that the girl was no maiden before her marriage (Varys, bless his soul, is so very useful to furthering her interests, for the good of the realm). The looks do not go unnoticed.
“I want her gone within a moon’s turn. How you do it, I do not care but our deal remains. If she got her our children would be dead and I would as well.”
They share a boy and a girl together, the best of both of them, and Arwyn knows her husband well enough by now that if he did not love her, he certainly loves his children. As it stands she’s certain that by the end of the next moon the woman would be gone, their children safe, and another threat to her throne is gone.
She thanks Damocles by letting him pick the next few playmates within their bed.
Their third child is early and still born.
Arwyn wonders if this is some sort of punishment. If so, the god’s both old and new are cruel. Tiny and perfect with silver hair and bright blue eyes, if only the little girl had just breathed. Perhaps then she would have lived.
Arwyn remains bedridden for a full moon before returning to court life.
The night before she is due to return though she slips out from under her covers and wanders away. The guards assigned to her are easily fooled because there is a passageway from her room to her husband’s.
Instead of being in her own bed she slips into his, curling around seeking warmth, and burying her face into his shoulders. Strange because she expected him not to be alone but he was, and she sighs as an arm wraps around and pulls her close.
“We should try again one night.”
Her words are soft, quiet, and broken, unlike the strong Queen that the rest of their kingdom sees.
