A decade later

King Jon awoke much as he did for the last several years; with his cock buried deep in his wife’s throat. The sight never got old and despite all the power of a king, it was truly this act that made him feel like an actual Conqueror. Cersei was heavy with his child again, with what would be their fourth and judging by what the maester had said, likely her last given her age.

The years and many children she had born had most definitely taken a toll on her body, but she never failed to get Jon’s juices flowing. Whenever he was not tending to matters of the realm or keeping his combat skills sharpened, he was buried balls deep into his Queen. But despite his healthy sex life with the woman, Jon could not help but grow bored with the exchange.

He grunted and released his seed deep into the woman’s gulping throat, watching as she drank it all down with a smile. Casually he reached down and caressed her milk-swollen tit, before slowly removing himself from the bed.

“Where are you going?” She asked, her face pressed in disappointment, “come back to bed.”

Jon slowly dressed himself. “I have business that needs attending,” he winked at her, “affairs of state never rest.”

“At least break your fast with me,” she complained.

Slipping a tunic on, adorning his crown he said, “I’ll have them bring me something in the Council chamber,” he walked to the door, “I’ll see you this evening.”

He walked down the hall, flanked as usual by his Kingsguard. Eventually he made his way to the chambers he used whenever conducting his dealings with the various dignitaries who could not make their appeals in open court. More often than not he used it primarily for a private solar to go over his days work before he had to face the court proper. When he entered that morning however, he found it was occupied by two indivuals.

Tommen and Myrcella had grown up around the Capitol, preferring to stay with their mother and half-siblings than to remain at Casterly Rock with their mad brother Joffrey. Tommen had shed the baby fat and grown into something of a warrior, throwing himself into training each day, whilst Myrcella had only grown more beautiful as she aged. Both of them looked like Cersei and Jamie come again, yet neither had married.

He greeted them with a bemused smile. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Family matters,” Myrcella said, ever the bolder of the two, “mother is almost due to give birth, and we would ask that you decrease her workload.”

Tommen nodded along. “For her health’s sake.”

Jon frowned at the two, sitting behind his desk and watching them thoughtfully. “Your mother is not the sort to accept coddling,” he scratched his jaw, “besides, the Queen has duties.”

“We would be willing to fill those duties during her absence,” Myrcella said, hand casually resting over her chest. Tommen watched the king and licked his lips, “_all _of her duties...My King.”

He blinked for a moment when the gravity of what they were saying dawned on him. “ I admire your boldness,” he said with consideration, “but what you’re suggesting...”

“She’s gotten old and fat,” Myrcella said, leaning forward and giving Jon a good look at her cleavage, “and there was a time when you and I were almost wed.”

Tommen surprised him by coming around and getting to his knees, his head awfully close to Jon’s groin. “I have loved you from afar for so long,” he whispered in a husky voice, “the both of us could be far better lovers than she ever was. Put her aside...”

Myrcella moved in, kissing her way up his neck, “put her aside, and together we can create and even greater rule...together.”