THE QUIET WOLF POV: Five Days after THE QUIET WOLF POV (CH6 Part2)
THE IRON STAG POV: Same Day as THE QUIET WOLF POV (CH7)
THE DRAGON PRINCESS POV: Same Time as THE DRAGONWOLF PRINCE POV (CH6)
THE DRAGONWOLF PRINCE POV: Right after THE DRAGON PRINCESS POV (CH7)
THE YOUNG DIREWOLF POV: Four Days After THE YOUNG DIREWOLF POV (CH6)
THE LADY DIREWOLF POV: A Day after THE QUIET WOLF POV (CH7)
The Valyrian Phrases,in the chapter, have been translated in the chapter itself. Do not forget to read it.
The Quiet Wolf
The Hand's Tourney was going to start today. The Melee, then the Joust and then the Archery Competition. He longed to see how Orys Storm would fare in the melee. The day since Robert had seen his son, he had taken well to him. Robert was more involved in sparring with his son that drinking and whoring, though that did not reduce the eight stone that Robert had gained. Robert had told him how Cersei despised his son and wanted him to spend time with his trueborn son instead of his bastard because after all, Joffrey would be King after him and not his bastard. Robert had promptly told her that Joffrey didn't fight with hammer's and he was no good with swords. He had ordered the Kingslayer to make Joffrey his squire. When the Young Prince had pompously declared that he didn't need to be a squire and that he could defeat a knight three years older than him easily. Robert had shouted at him that he had been defeated by Robb Stark easily, and the prince had gone scarlet. Jaime Lannister had taken his nephew into his service but hadn't been able to beat sense in him. Joffrey was still the same arrogant boy and had made Jaime Lannister's second squire do everything for him. He also remembered his talk with Sansa about the daggers and Orys and then how Arya had pounded on him and he had told them the truth about Jon.
He stood in front of the door and rapped on it twice. The door opened and he was greeted by the sight of his eldest daughter who resembled her mother so much. The same red hair, like fire and eyes the lightest colour of blue like the rivers. She wore one of the gowns she had made today, one which could be used for horse riding. No matter how much she looked like her mother he could find the traces of Wolf's Blood in his children. It seemed all his children had received it, even though he thought Sansa hadn't, except Jon. Jon might not have received it because of the Dragon's Blood present in his veins. He knew how Jon could stay longer in the hot springs, Robb had come complaining to him about it, but he had brushed it off by saying that it was natural, and people were born with it.
"Sansa, I mean to talk to you about something that has come into my notice." He said. Sansa just opened the door and he allowed himself in.
"What is it that you want to talk about?" She asked. He just took out the daggers and showed them to her. Her face went red at the thought of being caught and she gave a slight eep. "I'll kill you Jory." She muttered but he heard it. He just gave a chuckle.
"No need to kill Jory. He is loyal to you till now. The man who gave me this is in the Red Keep, in fact, he is the who crafted it." He said to her. Her face held a nervous expression.
"Why would a smith be in the Red Keep?" She asked nervously.
"Why would a lady tell a smith to make two daggers for her?" He questioned her. "You know who the smith is, whose son he is. I can tell it by looking at your eyes." In reality, he didn't know if all of this was true. He was just asking aimless questions, hoping to get some answers out of them.
"You can't let anything happen to him. The queen will kill him if she knows who he is. She will use poisons and what not. Father, you have to protect him." She rambled. Robert wouldn't let anything happen to his son he knew it.
"Nothing will happen to him. Robert wouldn't let anything happen to him. He is with him in my quarters." He assured her. She just nodded. "You must know one more thing. His name was Gendry. Robert didn't like it so he changed his name to Orys Storm. Remember that. Robert wouldn't want you to hear you call Orys by that name. Get it." He asked her. She nodded again. Suddenly the door of the room burst open revealing his youngest daughter, her tunic dirty her breeches wet till her calves and smelling of shit and piss.
"Father, Father we need to talk. I went in some dungeon or something like that and there were dragon skulls kept over there. The skulls of the likes of Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes. There were two people, one was fat I think. They talked about some Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Rhaegar and our Aunt Lyanna. They said something about direwolves and lions being at war." Arya rambled. Jaehaerys Targaryen, he was pale after hearing that name. Jon was alive but as Jaehaerys Targaryen. It didn't matter to him, he was alive and he was happy at that. "They said that they were going to kill you like the previous hand but one man said that you were not like the others and you had no interest in playing the game." She whispered it at the end. "Which game father?" Arya asked innocently. He very well knew that which game they talked about. The Game of Thrones. He went and closed the door and barred it. The children needed to know the truth about Jon.
"I need you both to listen very carefully. This is something that shouldn't leave this door. You can tell no one about this." He warned them forehand. "Jon is Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and your aunt Lyanna Stark. I brought him to Winterfell because he was my blood and Robert had allowed the killing of Aegon and Rhaenys. Any son of Rhaegar would pose a threat against him so I hid him and gave him the name Jon Snow. A bastard's ridiculed life was given to a prince of the realm, one of the last people in the world who carried the blood of dragonlords." He said and looked at the faces of his children. Their mouths were open in shock and were staring at him in silence.
"But the fat one said that Jaehaerys looks like a Targaryen. Jon looks like a Stark, like me. How can he change his appearance." Arya asked with a curious expression on her face. I just shrugged at her question.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Sansa's voice came into his ears. "I treated Jon so horribly for the past few years. Mother did that. You could have at least told her." Sansa said, angry.
"I couldn't tell anyone, fearing for the heads of my family. The only person who knows is Howland Reed and he will not tell it to anyone." He said, expressing his reasons.
"Is this what you told Jon before you left. When you took him into the crypts?" Arya asked.
"Yes. He had the right to know who he was before he took such a decision, of wiping out a whole family. He needed to know the truth about his mother. About his dragon's blood." He said to them.
"Dragon's blood?" Sansa and Arya simultaneously questioned.
"Yes. Dragon's blood. House Targaryen coined the term for all its members having better resistance against heat. Jon showed his when he and Robb used to go and take a dip in the hot springs." He explained.
"So that is what is Dragon's Blood." Arya muttered. He just nodded at it.
"Come on Arya, now that your curiosity is sated it is time that you have a bath." He said to Arya. " And don't speak to anyone about this. This is a matter between the Stark family, no one else should know it." He said. The girls bobbed their head, assuring him that they would not say anything to anyone. Arya came with him and he told one of the guards to tell someone to bring water into Lady Arya's room. He escorted Arya to her room and then made way to his own hoping that Robert would have been finished by now.
Currently, he was on the tourney grounds. They were filled with various banners of the Houses of Westeros great and small. He could spot out the Stark and Baratheon banners beside each other and the Lannister banners beside the Baratheon ones. He could also see the Arryn banners and the banners of House Royce. The banners of House Tyrell and House Tully were also hard not to miss. Beside the banners of the most prominent Houses of Westeros, except Targaryen and Martell, he could see the other banners flocking around them.
He had sent Jory to Ser Hugh but the knight was not present there. He had sent him again, after three days and Jory had told him that the knight didn't know anything about his lord's death. When Jory had asked who knighted him, the recently knighted Ser had just shown him a document bearing Lord Arryn's signature that he was declared a knight. Walking on the tourney grounds which were being tilled, before the tourney started, he met Ser Barristan Selmy.
Ser Barristan Selmy was an accomplished knight and was Lord-Commander of Robert's Kingsguard. Had Bran lived he would've asked Ser Barristan to take him as his squire. Ser Barristan was getting his white cloak of the Kingsguard getting fixed by his squire.
"Ser Barristan." He called out the elderly knight.
"Lord Stark." Ser Barristan greeted him.
"It's good to see you. Participating in the tourney are you?" He asked.
"Aye." Ser Barristan said. "It's strange that not so many years ago we fought as enemies on the Trident. You rode with the leader of the Rebels and I served another King. Though he was not a good one."
"I'm glad we never met on the field Ser Barristan." He said. "As is my wife. I don't think a widow's life would suit her." He said. And he wouldn't meet his son and Lyanna's son, he said in his mind. Ser Barristan just laughed.
"You are too modest. I've seen you cut down a dozen great knights, including Ser Arthur Dayne." Ser Barristan said. No, He said to himself. Howland Reed stabbed him in the back. He could still remember Dawn above him, the greatsword shining like day, while Ice lay afar, that greatsword shining like night. The blood of Arthur Dayne on his breastplate, as Howland stabbed Arthur in the back to save him. He cleared his head of it. They kept walking and walking. He could see the various tents propped alongside the river. In different colours. Gold, Silver, Blue, Orange, and many more. The event was a very bright one no doubt.
"My father once told me that you were the best he had ever seen." He said to Ser Barristan and it was true. Lord Rickard Stark was a man who knew a great deal about combat and when he told a person the somebody was better, a man was foolish not to believe him. "I've never known my father to be a bad judge of combatants."
"He was a fine man, your father. What the Mad King did to him was a terrible crime." Ser Barristan said. It always came down to the burning of his father and the strangling of his brother.
"That lad," He said pointing his thumb to indicate the lad, the recently knighted Ser Hugh, whom he had just seen wearing a new piece of armour, and desperate to change the topic, "He was a squire until a few months ago, how could he afford a new piece of armor. That also from Tobho Mott's shop." Tobho Mott's shop had become quite famous ever since it had been discovered that Orys Storm used to work there. Orys had become very popular, partly due to his hammer and partly due to the strong Baratheon looks that the boy possessed. The boy had beaten squires and squires from many great houses with his hammer and the new stag helmet, one which Robert had ordered Tobho Mott to be made, that he wore. People had secretly started calling him 'Iron Stag'.
"Perhaps Lord Arryn left him some money." Ser Barristan said. Yes, that could be the case. Perhaps that was the only case because he couldn't see a lad like that kill his own lord. "I hear that the king wants to compete in the melee today against his son."
"Yes. That will never happen." He said to Ser Barristan.
"Robert tends to do what he wants." Ser Barristan laughed.
"If King got what he wanted all the time, we would still be fighting a bloody rebellion." He said to Ser Barristan.
"Lord Stark. I just want you to know that Rhaegar was not a monster. He loved your sister. Her's was the last name on his lips." Ser Barristan said.
"Aye, I know he loved my sister. He loved my sister like Robert never would and Lyanna loved him. Them eloping fueled Robert's ego. I came to fight partly because I wanted to see the Mad king dethroned because of what he did to my father and brother and partly because I wanted to hear it from Lyanna's own mouth that she had gone off with Rhaegar. I heard that, but my sister died shortly after that." He said. With that, he moved away already having divulged a great secret to the man, but he knew the man to be one of honour and the and the man still supported the Targaryens'.
He walked along the coast until he came upon a golden coloured tent with crowned black stags upon it. Robert had said that he wanted to live with the competitors and not in the fucking keep. He was the king and he got what he wanted, but there were somethings that Robert would never get. Especially not now, like participating in a melee.
He walked into the tent to see Robert standing up there his arms open wide as a boy tried to fit him into his armour. The armour was, of course, elaborate, golden in colour with black antlers on it.
"It's made too small your grace, it won't go." The boy said.
"Your mother was a dumb whore with a fat arse. Did you know that?" Robert said angrily. The boy took out the armour. "Look at this idiot. One ball and no brains. He can't even put a man's armour on him properly." Robert said. The boy was shit scared, he could see it.
"You're too fat for your armour." He said to Robert. Robert turned to him.
"Fat. Fat is it. Is that how you speak to your king." Robert said. He knew what was going to come after that. Robert gave a throaty laugh and he joined in. Robert looked at the boy beside him. He too looked at him closely. Blond hair, green eyes. The boy was a Lannister. The boy too gave a smile. "Oh! It's funny is it." Robert exclaimed seriously. The boy's expression changed within a matter of seconds.
"No your grace." The boy said.
"No. Is it. You don't like the Hands joke?" Robert asked the boy rhetorically.
"Stop torturing the poor boy." He said to Robert.
"You heard the Hand. the kings too fat for his armour. Go find the breastplate stretcher." Robert shouted to the boy. The boy hastily dropped the armour and started to move out. "Now." Shouted Robert after him. Robert laughed after the boy went. He couldn't help but join him.
"The breastplate stretcher?" He curiously asked. Robert picked up his glass of Dornish Red. One thing Robert Baratheon never failed to have was wine. He could drink day in and day out and he would still be drinking it.
"How long before he figures it out?" Robert asked.
"Maybe you should've one invented." He said.
"All right, all right. You watch me out there. I can still swing my hammer." Robert said, taking a sip from his glass.
"You have no business in the Melee." He said.
"Why? Because I'm King. Piss on that. I want to hit somebody." Robert said, his face turning red.
"And who is going to hit you back?" He asked.
"Anybody who can and the last man in his saddle-" Robert continued to say, but he cut him off.
" -Will be you. There is not a man in the Seven Kingdoms who will dare to hit you." He said.
"You're saying that those cravens would let me win?" Robert asked, his voice dangerously low.
"Aye." He answered. Robert proceeded to fill wine in one of the empty glasses that he had. Robert held the wine glass towards him. "You can watch your son beat many of them in the melee. I'm sure that would give you satisfaction." He said.
"Drink," Robert said.
"I'm not thirsty." He replied.
"Drink your King commands it," Robert said, his voice commanding. He took the glass from Robert and took a sip of the Dornish Red. The wine was spicy and sweet at the same time, adding an odd taste to his tongue. Robert sat on his cot. "Gods… Too fat for my armour." Robert said slowly.
"You're squire. A Lannister boy?" He asked Robert.
"Hmmm….. Bloody idiot, but Cersei insisted. Lancel and Tyrek Lannister. Her cousins." Robert said. "I've Jon Arryn to thank for her. Cersei Lannister will make a good match, he told me. It'll lead her father under your side." Robert said trying to imitate Jon Arryn, but he failed miserably. "I thought being king meant I could do what I wanted." He said. He stood up and slammed the glass on the table. "Come on. Let's go and watch the melee. At least I can smell someone else's blood."
"Robert." He said.
"What?" Robert asked. He just looked down at Robert's open belly. Robert followed my line of sight and laughed as he looked upon his nude, bloated stomach. "An inspiring sight for the people. Bow before your King, bow you shits." Robert said and he howled again with laughter. "Go on Ned. I'll come back wearing some clothes and see my son beat some arse out there." Robert said. He walked to the opening of the tent and Robert clapped him on the back. He just moved out, keeping his eyesight on the stands looking of either, Sansa, Arya or Septa Mordane. He found Arya sitting over there, in a pretty grey dress, but he could see the dirty hem of the dress. Arya would always be the same, no matter what. He searched for Sansa but his eyes couldn't find her. He gave up knowing that she would come as he walked to the stands.
The Iron Stag
His life right now was something that he had never imagined. He was sitting on his cot, in the tent that he had been assigned. Beside his cot was his own made hammer. It was a beautiful piece of work, especially since the whole thing had been made in under two weeks. He thought about everything that had happened to him until now.
At first, he was nobody until he started to work in Tobho Mott's shop. All he remembered about his mother was her yellow hair and her sweet voice. It was in the past few months that special people had taken interest in him. First came Lord Jon Arryn, then came Sansa Stark, then Lord Eddard Stark and after that came the King himself, who was his father. He was called Gendry all his life, a no name, with no father and mother, then suddenly his whole life was ripped apart. He was to be made into Orys Storm, King Robert Baratheon's son. He had to read and write. He had to learn how to speak properly, to different people at different times. He had to face the queen and the ingrate shit named Joffrey. He had to learn how to dance because he was going to take part in the Hands Tourney and in the feasts where people would dance and he would have at least ask some of the ladies to dance with him. The studies were altogether not bad and he learned a lot from it. He learned arithmetic and science and a whole new world of things but the best thing he liked to was to swing his hammer in the ring, learning from his father the art of war and single combat. He liked to beat the squires that had come and liked the simple talks he had with Sansa Stark. Sansa, she had given him permission to use her name after had called her 'Lady Sansa' for almost a day, and they were pretty close, after all, they were staying in the same castle and Lord Stark had offered him to stay in the Hands tower. Many times he could also see Sansa at the base of Father's or the Mother's statue in the Great Sept of Baelor.
The melee was going to start in some time. He had to get ready in the newly made armour that his father had gifted him. He stood up and looked at his newly minted armour. The cuirass was black with a golden stag on it representing his father's house and his bastard status. He took out the greaves and schynbalds and wore them on his leg and shins respectively. Next, he attached spurs to his boots and then he wore them. Then came the skirt, the cuirass, the rondels, the gorget, and the covering from his wrist to his elbow. He wore leather gloves on his hand and then picked up his hammer. On the other side of his bed was the famous bullhead helm that he had made and alongside it was the stag helm that his father had given to him. The flaps of the tent opened and he saw Sansa come in, she had some kind of cloth in her hand. He quickly stood up.
"Sansa." He greeted.
"Orys." She said to him.
"What brings you here?" He asked her. He could see a faint rise of red in her cheeks.
"I, uh…. I wanted to give you this." She said, nervous. She handed him the piece of cloth. It was pure white with a grey direwolf on it. The sigil of her house, he recognized. "This… is my…. Favour. Hope you win Gen-, sorry, Orys." She stammered. Despite her attempt to hide her fault in calling him Gendry, he could catch on it. She turned around and went towards the flap.
"Sansa." He said after her. She quickly turned around, stepping on the hem of her dress, on the process of falling but she balanced herself. He clutched the favour in his hand showed it to her. "Thank You." He said to her. He could see the heat rise up in her cheeks and he smiled at it. She looked like a ripe tomato by the end of it and rushed outside. He chuckled at her antics.
He took out the glove from his left hand and tied the favour in the hand, albeit with a lot of difficulty. He then wore the glove back.
"Lord Orys, the melee is going to start in ten minutes. All participants are advised to come to the line in five." A young boy said as he rushed in the tent. He nodded at the news and the boy went out of the tent. He had told many people countless times not to call him Lord Orys, even the Queen, whom he detested, had helped him in that.
He took the stag helmet from the table, the helmet being black, bearing gilded horns, and tucked it under his arm. He lifted his hammer above his shoulder and walked out of the tent. He saw his beautiful white charger which he had not named, owing to the philosophy of Duncan the Tall, in which he said 'The best people do not name their horses, for it becomes easy to bear the pain of their loss.'
"Hey boy." He said as he petted the beautiful charger that Ser Barristan had made him buy from the money that Lord Stark had given him for the two daggers. The charger had a black saddle and chanfron. The charger neighed at it. He gave a laugh at it.
"Are you ready?" A voice came from behind. He turned around and saw Ser Barristan Selmy, in his gleaming white armour and cape, his hand on the pommel of the sword.
"I'm ready Ser Barristan." He assured the old man.
"Take care of yourself in the field." Ser Barristan said. He nodded at it. The old man patted him on the back. " Best of Luck." The old man said.
"Thank you." He said back. He planted the hammer on the ground, wore the stag helm and mounted the horse. Ser Barristan handed him the hammer and he took it. He rode off to the grounds five minutes prior to the start as he had been told to do.
He saw various participants waiting there, the most prominent being Lord Yohn Royce, in his bronze breastplate that was carved with the ancient runes of the first men and Thoros of Myr a red priest, who used to drink and whore more than he used to preach. He could see his father sitting on his Kingly seat that had been erected. Beside him sat the Queen and her three children. They were guarded by Ser Mandon Moore and Ser Preston Greenfield. He could also see the Stark household sitting on the stands. Arya was waving excitedly at him and Sansa was smiling. He just nodded towards them.
"Start the damn melee." His father shouted. The effect was instantaneous and rippling. All the people that were participating in the melee, including himself, rushed forward like madmen and started swinging their weapons. The first person he encountered swung his morningstar towards him but he blocked it with his shield. He swung his hammer and the hammer connected with the man's jaw, his shield coming up a bit late, and the man fell to the ground. He saw two boys come and drag the man out of the stadium, constantly avoiding the horses. He spurred his charger forward and went on hitting and blocking and this went on for quite a long time. All the time during his charge he didn't perceive any threat from the back. A mace connected with his helm and his head rang from the impact as he saw stars around himself. He swung his hammer back in a dizzy state and tried to hit his attacker. Instead, he heard the horse neigh in pain. I hit the horse, he thought as the horse fell down. He took out his helmet, his hair damp with sweat. The man that he had hit had a shield with the insignia of House Frey. He got down from his horse and pulled the man from beneath the horse. The man offered a weak smile before he blacked out.
He heard a guttural cry and he quickly turned. There was Thoros of Myr, with his cheap sword covered with wildfire. His robes the red of the priests of R'hllor and his charger, a tan one, with a red saddle and straps. He held his hammer tightly in his grip as he waited. Just as Thoros came in his range he swung his hammer, clumsily, in an upper arc trying to hit the bald man who wore no helmet. Thoros leaned to the other side, dodging the clumsy blow and swung his sword. He blocked the blow with his shield and Thoros let out another blow and he dodged that or at least tried to as the sword clanged on his shoulder plate.
"It ain't fair to fight you on a horseback is it, boy," Thoros said with a smug expression. Thoros got down from his horse and attacked him fervently his blows landing in his shield or his hammer. Trying to find a blind spot he was hit on his head with the pommel of Thoros' sword. All he saw was blackness and flashes of green and red. He swung his hammer thinking he had hit Thoros and then promptly collapsed due to the blow to his head.
The Dragon Princess
Euphoria was coursing inside her when Jae pressed his lips to her lips. She kissed him back her hands entwining around his neck while he pulled her closer keeping a firm grip on her hips her breasts brushing against his chest through the thin covering of her gown and his shirt. They only broke apart to take in the air, after the kissing for a minute or two, their foreheads joined and lips mere centimetres away.
"I missed you." She said, tears streaming down her face.
"Shh…" Jae consoled her. "I'm here Dany, nothing will happen to you." he brushed the tears off her face. "And Dragons don't cry." Jae said in a condescending tone. She just chuckled at it and sniffed back her tears.
"Better?" She asked. Jae took a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.
"Much better." Jae said and kissed her again but this one was short. "This is an amazing find we have. The only building in Valyria that withstood the doom and you have been here for more days than I. Care to show me what is hidden in here Dany." Jae said. She hid her blush from him. She had been so scared that she had not at all seen anything in the massive palace at all, except the gods of her race.
"I didn't go on an adventure looking for what was there or not Jae." She mumbled so low that nobody could hear it.
"What was that? I think I didn't hear you correctly, Dany." Jae said, seriously.
"I said, that I didn't go on an adventure for what was there or not Jae." She spoke loud and clear. There was faux horror etched on his face.
"What?" He almost shouted. "You didn't see a thing in this bloody mansion, which is way bigger that Winterfell, except the gods. The first thing Robb and I would do was tear this place down brick by brick to find out all its hidden secrets." He said. There were moments like this that she envied Jae, He had a loving family all the time. His uncle ready to raise him as his own son, against his best friend. His cousin, whom he thought as a brother, a sister whose place no one could take in his heart, not even her. She felt a jerk on her hand and she came back to this world. " Come on," Jae said, tugging her hand.
"Where?" She asked.
"To tear this thing down brick by brick to find a place where we can take a bath." Jae said.
"Eager aren't you Jae to look at your aunt nude." She teased. Jae stopped and his face became red.
"Um…. No. I-We smell really bad Dany. I thought it would be good if we take a bath." Jae stammered. She wanted to kiss him badly in his flustered state but she also wanted to tease him a bit more.
"Huh. I really thought that you wanted to see me nude after that passionate kiss we shared. Guess I was wrong." She said and she tched at him and touched his cheek affectionately. Jae was red as a tomato now.
"Stop teasing me, woman." Jae gritted out of his teeth. "You don't know the things I want to do with you," Jae said. She leaned in and pressed herself to him, his obvious erection grinding on her pussy. Damn it, it feels good, she thought.
"Keep your ideas to yourself Jaehaerys Targaryen. Right now we ought to find a pool and then in the night, this hot voluptuous body of mine, that is pressing against you is yours." She whispered seductively in his ear, even though there was no one. By the end of it, she could feel Jae's 'uncomfortability' in him wearing his breeches. She didn't wait to look at his face because she knew how it would be, red and beads of sweat on his forehead, and grabbed his hand and they crossed the Gods of Valyria to find a pool to bathe in.
The way they were going to the pool, which they were not sure of, was decorated fabulously. It showed everything about the Valyrians. Their power, their godliness, their dragons. In short, it was beautiful, the paintings would be sought out just like valyrian steel. The walls were made of fused black stone, the impressions made on it were so real and it didn't feel like it was cut. Of course, it was not cut, Valyrians used sorcery on the stones, she had read but she had been sceptical about it. Looking at them removed her doubts. She looked at Jae noticing his expression. His eyes were filled with awe and wonder and his face was not red and his erection had snuffed out. She giggled at the words that she had said to Jae and found herself blushing at them too. She was too focused on her thoughts that she didn't see the door that they had encountered.
The door like any other in the whole city, probably, was carved in the shape of a dragon. The Dragon was made of the same fused black stone, its eyes deep red in colour, the same as Ghost's. The door was sealed, with no handles to open it and no key slot, instead there were two palm-shaped areas, which on closer inspection, had small spikes on it. She tried pushing it to no avail.
"Blasted door. How the fuck are we supposed to open it." She cursed and kicked the door.
"Dany stop. This door was made by Valyrians, not Andals. There is probably something needed to open it." Jae said. What! What was needed to open the blasted door? Jae went closer to the door and inspected the palm slides. "They've put palm slides instead keyholes or handles. Everything in here seems to be made of sorcery and Valyrian sorcery was rooted in two things: Fire and Blood. We don't have fire and fused stone doesn't burn so the only thing left is blood." Jae muttered.
"The door needs Valyrian blood to open itself?" She asked. Jae nodded at it. "Well, it seems it is our lucky day. There are two Valyrian's right outside."
"Come here and press one of your palms, it will sting a bit because it needs a bit of blood." Jae said. Dany did as she was told while Jae pressed his palm on the other slide. There was a prickly sensation and her blood seemed to flow from the tips of her fingers and the sides of her palm. Soon there was a hissing sound and both of them fell forward, their combined weight pushing the door open. Inside was one of the most beautiful bathrooms she had ever seen. The bathroom was made of the same black stone, with a massive bathtub carved in the centre. The privy was to one side with a washbasin on the other. There were stands kept on both sides which could be lightened up with fire and the matches were kept near the stand nearest to the door. Thankfully none of them had the dragon themes that dominated the house.
"Wow!" She exclaimed.
"I agree with you on this. This is one of the most fabulous bathrooms that I have ever seen." Jae said. Jae went to the side and picked up the matches and started lightning the stands. The fire illuminated the room and the walls reflected the light beautifully.
"What are you doing?" She asked Jae.
"We are going to take a bath, aren't we. So I was just lightening up the place so we could have a proper bath as the Valyrians did four hundred years ago." Jae answered.
"I don't think it will be good if we take a bath in this pool." She said, expressing her concern.
"Why?" Jae asked.
"Well for one, this place is four hundred years old, then how is this water still here, steam rising from it. How is it that only this palace was left and everything was destroyed?" She asked. Jae just shrugged.
"This place was preserved by blood magic. This place wanted itself to be found. This place is our salvation on this island until we get off it. This place contains secrets that have not been found after the doom. This place is our home Dany. This place is the home of our ancestors" Jae said. "Come on now, we smell a lot." Jae said as he sniffed himself and closed the door and started to open his shirt. She had never really seen Jae's body with a sexual mind and now when she saw it she could say that he was very beautiful. Lean body, hard and taut stomach, well-defined pectorals and shoulders, strong biceps and triceps he had everything. Jae proceeded to open his breeches and she felt the heat rush to her face. She had never seen a man naked and this was the first time she was even bathing with one. She was glad that it was Jae, with whom she was indulging in these things. When Jae kicked aside his breeches she saw him in all his glory and she knew that she looked like a tomato. Nothing about Jaehaerys Targaryen could be described ugly. Firm ass cheeks, long cock with silver hair above it, hard thighs, and strong calves. Her mind pushed in some very lustful images of them fucking together and she felt herself heat up, head to toe at those images.
"Your turn." Those words brought her out of her reverie. Jae had an obvious smirk on his face which had obviously come from her staring at his naked body.
"You're very beautiful." She blurted immediately and blushed at it. Jae's eyebrows rose up, nearly touching his hairline.
"Your very welcome dārilaros, but it is your turn." Jae said in an alluring voice. She moved her hand brushed it against the buttons of her gown and started unbuttoning them. Soon all the buttons were unbuttoned and then she bent down to catch the hem of her dress and slowly removed it, all with the intent to tease Jae. soon her gown was on one side of the room and she was bare before Jae. she nervously looked at his face and was pleased to see that he had a face of shock and when she looked down she was not surprised to see his manhood standing proudly. "You're beautiful than the Goddess of Love." Jae said. She blushed at the comment. Jae came and stood beside her and held her hand, "Together?" He asked.
"Together." She answered. They walked near the edge and dived into the pool. The water hit her, hard and fast and she went down and down in the neverending pool. Visions swarmed her mind, hitting her fast, she is unable to decipher anything. Finally, the visions seemed to slow down and she watched each one carefully.
She was on the back of her dragon Terrax, above the now known island of Valyria. Valyria prior to its destruction was beautiful, a whole landmass and not fragmented. She could see the other dragonlords coming and going and the various palaces, far bigger than the one she was in currently. Terrax swooped down and she landed on the black stone path right in front of the palace that she lived in. She entered the palace and was greeted by the familiar sight of the Gods of Valyria in front of her. Kneeling in front of the statues were three people. A woman, a girl, and a boy. The woman was most probably the mother of the two children. The boy tried to sneak out of the room but was caught by the mother.
"Gaemon Targaryen, you will sit down till the prayers end." The mother scolded. Targaryen. The name revolved in her mind. These were her ancestors, her family, her home. Jaehaerys and she had landed in the family home of Targaryens in the ruins of Valyria. Suddenly the girl, a maiden by the way she looked, gasped and immediately ran to another direction. She followed her there and saw as she ended up on a black door. The door, as soon as it came in contact with her hand, opened and she let herself inside.
Inside the room was very warm and brightly illuminated. In the front there was a desk and on the desk sat a man with Valyrian features. By the way, this room looked, this probably had to be a solar.
"What happened Daenys?" The father questioned. With the additional piece of information and the time setting, she identified it as the time when Daenys the Dreamer told her father, Aenar Targaryen, that the Doom would fall on Valyria.
"A cataclysm will fall on our lands and none would be safe from it unless they remove themselves from this place as far as possible." Daenys said. Aenar seemed to be in great thought and then he finally answered.
"We will leave the lands of our ancestors with all our dragons and most of our possessions. We will retire to the westernmost outpost and we will take our loyal bannermen of Houses Velaryon and Celtigar." Aenar answered. Daenys seemed relieved by this and went away. The scene dissolved into mist.
She was now standing in front of another Valyrian man. His head was bowed and his sword unsheathed. Around her were many men and women standing there and waiting for her to speak.
"I now proclaim Aegon of the House Targaryen, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." She said as she placed a circlet of Valyrian Steel studded with five big rubies. This was Aegon the Conqueror's coronation.
Next, she was on some hill, on a dragon who was spewing dragonfire on the soldiers. Gusts of wind and heavy droplets of rain fell on her face. She could see a man, black of hair, wielding a greatsword cutting down men left and right. She remembered this battle after all the singers never seemed to describe it more lively. It was the Last Storm, the battle which made Baratheon's the ruler of the Stormlands.
Now she was on her dragon Terrax, high above the ground. She could see a massive lake and a monstrous castle, whose five towers were like candles with melted wax stuck on its side. She saw two other dragons, one was monstrous in size, black in colour so very familiar to Terrax, the other one, however, was quarter the size of the black dragon. The black dragon grabbed the throat of the silver dragon and tore off its wing. Both the rider and dragon, the silver one, fell from the clouds. This was the battle between Maegor I Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen, Son of Aenys I Targaryen. The scene dissolved into another one and she was in an unfamiliar castle, but looking at the massive and hideous Iron Throne in front of her she knew the castle to be the Red Keep. Atop the throne was a King, richly dressed in the Targaryen colours, Black and Red, with blood pouring out of the several wounds he had. This was the end of Maegor I Targaryen or Maegor the Cruel as men called him. The scene too dissolved.
She was again in the same room of the Red Keep, the only difference being that there was sunlight streaming in instead of moonlight. In front of her was an extremely fat man, who had the Targaryen hair and eyes and was wearing an elaborate crown. In front of the man, obviously, a King was a boy, no older than twelve. The King held the sword Blackfyre and knighted the boy and bestowed the ancient sword upon him. This was Aegon IV Targaryen or, Aegon the Unworthy, knighting his son Daemon Waters, who then adopted the name Blackfyre.
She was now on the banks of the Gods Eye. There was a man with silver hair laying there with two women. The one on the left was a Dornish and the one on the right was a Northerner. This was her brother Rhaegar and his two wives, Elia of House Martell and Lyanna of House Stark. There was a little girl, fully Valyrian, playing with a Kingsguard knight and Elia had a visibly swollen bump. The bump obviously contained her nephew Aegon and Lyanna was probably pregnant by the time with Jae. Her heart soared at seeing her brother happy.
She was again on Terrax, very, very close to the trident. A war was going on. There were Stark, Arryn, and Baratheon banners on one side. The other side solely contained Targaryen Banners. She could see the gleaming white armour and cape of the Kingsguard, soiled with gore and mud. At a distance, she saw two people fighting. One was wearing a black armour with a three-headed red dragon, made of rubies, fitted on it, carrying a longsword. The other man was wearing a back and golden armour with an antler helmet. This was Robert Baratheon. She saw as Robert Baratheon's hammer smashed against her brother's chest, flat side, and his rubies fell into the river like raindrops of blood.
She was now again in the throne room, but it was her father sitting on the Iron Throne. Her father had long silver-gold hair that fell to his hair in wild tangles and a matted long beard. His nails were cracked yellow and more like claws. He had various nicks on his arms and legs and he wore the very elaborate crown of Aegon the Unworthy. In front of the Iron Throne was a man of sixteen, with hair spun like gold and eyes that shone like emeralds. She would, of course, know this man, after all, he had gained his nickname 'Kingslayer' after he had killed her father. This was Jaime Lannister.
"Burn Them All! Burn Them All!" He screamed. She could see the murdering cold look in Jaime Lannister's eyes and at that moment she too wanted to kill her father. "Rossart. Ignite the Wildfire. Burn Them All!" His father half-ordered and half-cackled. The man named Rossart started walking but she saw Jaime Lannister abandon his post and give a rundown to Rossart. Rossart ran but Jaime Lannister caught up to him and opened him from belly to neck, blood splattering on the pretty white armour. She saw her father trying to run away but Jaime Lannister again came and this time he slashed at his king. She saw her father fall down humbled, but he tried to get up and most probably run. This time Jaime Lannister stabbed him in the back and the Targaryen dynasty ended with its last king on the floor stabbed in the back by his own Kingsguard.
She gripped the edges of the bath and pulled herself up, breathing heavily. She took in a huge gulp of air and looked around the pool. No one was there. Jae was not there. She went inside the pool not bothering with what had just happened to her and was surprised to find that the pool did not show her any more visions. Maybe it works its magic only one time on a person, she thought. Jae was sitting on the floor of the pool, curled up like a newborn baby. She swam towards him trying to reach him but something kept her out as if it was some kind of force field that was preventing her from entering the place. Suddenly the field disappeared and she entered to see Jaehaerys looking at her with his beautiful wine coloured eyes. He shot up to surface and she followed.
"Well, that was a nice history lesson." Jae remarked snarkily. "Though I don't know as to why they did not mention what will happen if we go into the pool."
"I think they might have mentioned it somewhere. You were just very eager to get into the bath with me." Jae smiled cheekily at her and blushed at the comment.
"Well, however nice the history lesson about the Starks' and Targaryens' may have been it was not appreciated. I really wanted to know you a bit more." Jae teased her. She blushed at the comment.
"I did see how well you wanted to know me when I opened my clothes." She shot back. Jae gave her an amusing smile. "Well I've had a long bath and I don't fancy staying inside the water so long," She held up her and examined her fingers, " it makes my skin wrinkle and makes me look old." She told Jae. She swam through the water and came upon the door side of the pool. She pushed herself up and, offering Jae a perfect view of her ass, as she climbed out of the pool. She let her curly, long, wet, hair, which touched the base of her spine stay loose and didn't wear her clothes. She walked to the door and, giving her hips an extra sway, and opened the door. She motioned Jae to follow her and walked out of the door.
The Dragonwolf Prince
Damn, he thought. Daenerys Targaryen was as perfect as a woman could be. The invitation did not miss him even with the extra sway that she gave to her perfect, little ass. He swam across and hurriedly got out of the pool, not wanting to lose her view and followed her in both how she went and where she went. He could see the footsteps made from the water that she had not dried off herself and followed them. The walls were covered with burning candles. Then he saw Dany at a distance, with her hair reflecting the fire beautifully, and he quietly moved and grabbed her from the back and lifted her off the floor, swinging her in circles.
"Jae, stop. Stop, please." Dany pleaded, with peals of laughter emerging from her stomach.
"No. You and I have some unfinished business." He growled into her ear. He put her down and gently pushed her, her back against the wall and closed the distance, standing a hair's breadth away from her. He could see the flames of the candles reflecting from her eyes making them shine in an unearthly glow. He could the uneasy rise and fall of her throat. He leaned forward and kissed her passionately. He could feel his erection poking into her belly. Daenerys returned his kisses with equal passion, both of them trying to dominate over the other. He nibbled on her lower lip asking for entrance and she happily granted it. He moved his tongue into her mouth and tasted her. She tastes like peaches, he thought. He tried to exert his dominance, but Dany not to be outdone unleashed the full of her tongue on his one and they were locked into a battle between tongues, which he soon won. He grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, both of them pitting like puzzle pieces. He broke the kiss and started to kiss her jawline, eliciting moans from her. He went down and down on the side of her throat and suckled on her pulse point.
"Oh…..Jae. Don't stop. Please. Don't. Stop." Dany said, punctuating every word carefully.
"As you wish my lady." He said and went back to his job of sucking on her pulse point. He moved back up and claimed her lips again and attacked her ferociously. Her hands went up in his hair, her silken fingers slowly massaging my scalp and sometimes grabbing it. He too grabbed her long hair and pulled it down, exposing her throat to my mercy. He went down, down her throat, to the valley between her breasts. He slowly kissed, suckled and bit her there as she moaned his name into his ear in a sensual way.
"Jae…. if we really are….. Oh, Jorrāelagon! Yes right there…... going to have sex then…. I want it to be on a bed…. and not propped up on a wall." Dany said, half moaning and half pleading. He left the valley of her breasts alone and raised his head to look directly into her eyes. They were dark, almost black, filled with lust and love and he had no doubt that his eyes were in the same condition.
" Jorrāelagon?" He asked.
"The god/goddess of love." She answered, breathing heavily.
"And where are we supposed to find a bed?" He asked.
"Well this place has a pool and a privy, then it will most probably have a bed, Jae. Stop being so silly." She mocked him. He growled at her for calling him silly. "As much as I hate to break this up, we really need to find a bed." She said.
"Fine." He relented and grabbed her hand to walk to where ever the hallway took them. After walking for a few minutes they encountered a door, which looked somewhat same to the door to the pool. Like the pool door, we had to press our palms onto the slots and the door clicked open. Inside the candles were already lit revealing a massive library. The shelves reflected the light from the candles gleaming like polished wood. The library had huge shelves, with tomes and scrolls pouring out of it. Many were littered on the table kept over there. He went over to the table and picked up one of the books kept over there.
'Udra hen Perzys', it was called. He opened the book to see many small phrases and some sentences written over there. He skimmed through the page and tired to try one of the phrases written in the tome.
"Perzys Jikagon." He said in the wind. The candles which were lit extinguished and the room fell into a dark silence. Daenerys' voice broke through the silence.
"Jae, what did you?" She asked.
"I read one of the phrases in the book and suddenly the fire went out." He shouted. "Where are you?" He asked.
"I am not near you. I went to look at some other shelves and then the candles extinguished." She said. "You say it was a phrase that you said that did this?" She asked.
"Yes."
"What was the phrase." She asked.
"Perzys Jikagon." He said. He could only hear the mutterings from her mouth and nothing else.
"'Perzys Jikagon' means 'Fire Go'. Try the counter phrase." She said.
"The counter phase?" He asked.
"Yes, it will be something like 'Fire Come' so that means it will be 'Perzys Māzigon'." She said.
As soon as she said the words the candles lit again, bathing them and the library in their light. He could see Dany a few feet from her and she walked up to him.
"How did that happen?" She asked him.
"I don't know," He replied. " I just read the phrase from this book and that happened." He replied defensively.
"Ok, we will figure it out tomorrow because right now we need to find a bed. I am still very much aroused." She said, whispering seductively in his ear as she rubbed his cock.
"Yeah. We sure have to." He said, his knees weak because he was enjoying his current state very much.
"I see a door behind you. Let us see where it leads." She said. He looked back and indeed saw a door but it didn't have the usual palm slots.
"Dany it doesn't have the palm slots. How do we get inside?" He asked. She went to the door and carefully observed it.
"Well yes it doesn't have palm slots but doors can also open like this." She said and she pushed the door hard and he was very surprised to see that it had indeed opened. They went inside the door to find a room, with a big mahogany table at the centre and a roaring fire in the side. The floor was carpeted with rich plum and purple colours and the room itself had a beautiful aura, one that promised every bit of calmness a person could find, too it. One side of the table had a throne-like chair the head carved into the shape of a dragon and the cushion red in colour and the other side three chairs, none of them too comfortable. The table was littered with scrolls but he dared not to touch it because he didn't want anything to happen to them. On the wall behind the throne-chair hung a great painting. The painting consisted of a man and a woman, both of them wearing bright coloured armour, the woman wearing blue and the man wearing red. In their hands were two very unmistakeable swords. Blackfyre and Dark Sister, he thought. They had the swords which had belonged into the Targaryen family for centuries. Beneath the painting, the word 'TARGARYEN' was embossed in red rubies. The Targaryens did have a fascination for red and black.
"Dany are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He asked her. She just hummed at the question, asserting the fact that she had come to the same conclusion as him. "This is Targaryen place, Dany. This is the home of our ancestors. Our bloodline." He said.
"Yes, it is. Before the doom fell we lived here. If the doom would not have happened we would still be here, together." She said and she grabbed his hand.
"Yes, we would be." He said as he turned and cupped her cheek. He leaned forward, eyes closed, hoping to find her lips midway but he didn't. Her lips came fast and hard, bruising his lips sending a plethora of pain and pleasure. He moved his lips against her in synchronization, their bodies fitting against each other like puzzle pieces. He pushed her against the wall not being able to control himself anymore, he needed her and he needed her right now and was surprised that the wall opened like a door and both of them fell down, their faces inches apart.
He looked at her, the vision of beauty beneath him that looked so much like Irogenia of Lys, who was said to have finished a man by looking at him in the eyes, but he was no ordinary man. He was a dragon and it was a dragon that was beneath him not someone from the pleasure houses of Lys. Dany's hair fanned on the rich, warm, red carpet. The candles were burning brightly reflecting off their naked bodies, giving them a golden sheen. Daenerys' breasts were pressed against his chest, her nipples intermittently brushing against his nipples, sending heat to his manhood which was pressed against her womanhood, making it twitch. He looked at the room and was happy to find a bed at last. He could feel Dany's hand in his hair as she grabbed it and pulled his head down giving him a passionate kiss.
"Dany…." He moaned between the kisses.
"Yes…." She said, her voice evidently showcasing her pleasure. He broke up from the kiss only too see Daenerys' frowning face.
"There is a bed behind us." He said.
"Then what are you waiting for." She said and smiled. Her smiles made her face even more vibrant than before. He got up and scooped her up bridal style and walked over to the bed and then unceremoniously dropped her on the bed.
"Ahhhh….. Jaehaerys Targaryen I swear on Balerion, that mmmm….." He kissed her hard and filled with passion. He opened her thighs and nestled himself between them as she moaned beneath him. He moved his mouth from her tasty mouth to her neck, wet from the previous kisses he had administered over there. He bit and sucked on her pulse point making them red, and proceeded down to her collar-bone. While Dany was in his mercy she moaned his name pushing his head down encouraging him more and more. He moved down to her breasts and captured one of her strawberry coloured nipples and sucked on them like a newborn babe. While he paid attention to one breast with his mouth he massaged the other breast with his hand, moulding them, as they came perfectly in his hands. He sucked, licked and bit on one nipple while he twisted and pulled the other making them both as hard as pebbles. All the while he could find his cock getting harder and harder pushing against Dany's belly. He left her breasts to the warm, humid air and started kissing her down south skimming over her stomach, as he put his tongue inside her navel, pleasuring her, exactly the way Theon Greyjoy had told the guards how women like liked when he did this and that.
"Fuck Jae…. Just like that….. Yes right over there." Dany moaned loudly.
He opened up her thighs more, her pink pussy, glistening with juices in front of him which looked very appetizing. He hovered his mouth an inch from her womanhood, breathing his warm air on her clit.
"Jae what are you doing?" Dany asked. He looked up in Dany's eyes.
"Do you trust me?" He asked instead of replying.
"Yes, but-" He closed the gap between them and put a finger on her lips.
"Shhhhhhh…. You will love what I am going to do." He asserted. He then went down again and sweetly kissed her on the top of her mound. He darted his eyes up, meeting Dany's lust-filled gaze. He then kissed her again and then licked her, she tasted of peaches down there too. She arched her back due to the administrations being delivered to her. He kissed and licked with more ferocity now, his mouth solely being on her mound and his eyes on her. He felt Dany's hand on his head, pushing him down on her pussy, encouraging him. Her pleasure filled moans made him go even fast on her. After a few minutes, he pushed his tongue inside her folds.
"Fuck! Jae… Right there….. keep doing it." She breathed into the air. He could feel her thighs closing around his neck, keeping him in place. He darted his tongue inside her folds, hitting all her spots, making her scorching heat clench around his tongue. He moved his tongue inside her for a few more minutes as she was writhing under him, her thighs had completely closed around his neck, choking him a bit. He moved his hands to her nipples and pinched them and at the same time, he bit her clitoris. Juices from her womanhood came gushing inside his mouth as her back arched more and more as she screamed into the hot air surrounding them both.
He untangled himself from her sweaty thighs and came up his hard, throbbing manhood pressing against her. The sweat rolling from their skin joined together on the bed, the light reflecting from their skin as if they were the particular source. He kissed her and made her taste herself on his lips. He could feel her hand going down from his hair to his shoulders, then his chest, skimming across his stomach. He looked at her face and she shot him a predatory grin. Before he knew what was going to happen he had flipped and Dany was now on top, her hand slowly and sensually, making him gasp at her administrations.
"You have had a lot of fun Jaehaerys Targaryen. Now fuck me or I swear to gods you will never ever get to touch this body again." She growled, her eyes, dilating like a cat's or should he say a dragon's.
"As my Queen commands." He said in a sultry voice. He aligned her slit with his cock and slowly inserted the tip in her. The heat of her walls pressed down on him, enclosing him like a sheath for a sword. He pushed more of him inside her, and damn she was tight. Very tight. It was until he reached her hymen that he groaned.
"Dany how do you want it, fast or slow?" Dany somehow managed to speak.
"Whatever…. You think is best." She said. Fast is better, he thought and then he slammed himself inside her in one go. Dany cried loudly at the intrusion but he kept his cock inside her, trying to make her adjust to the length.
"You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah!" She said breathless, " It was just a momentary pause of pain." She said.
He took out his cock out of her pussy only to see the sight of her maiden's blood on his cock. He pushed himself back in, enjoying the heat and tightness of her pussy, that made his cock suffocate. He looked at her only to find her eyes closed and her lips moving as if she was muttering something. He leaned in to hear what she was muttering.
"Yessss… Right there Jae… So good, so fucking good Jae." He grinned at what she was saying and broke her out of her mutterings by flipping her over so that she was back on her back and he was above her. He gave her a loud kiss as he slowly but gently rocked his hips against hers, the friction created by their bodies drenching their lower parts in sweat. He felt her thighs encircle his waist, pushing him in, encouraging him to fuck her harder. He granted her the request and fucked her harder than before. Her hands roamed the expanse of his back, her nails digging probably drawing out blood. He rammed in her, their breaths hot as they intermingled with each other. He proceeded to go south to her breasts as he kissed her nipples, sucking and biting both of them intermittently. He could hear the gasps coming out of her mouth and he couldn't stop his grains either. This was the best sex he would ever have in his whole life. The first time he would have sex would be with someone equal, someone who felt like he felt, someone who was connected to him in more ways that emotions, someone who knew how it felt to be Dragon.
He kept kissing her, their thighs spasmed and both of them knew that they were close. Their breathing got heavier as his movements became erratic and with the last thrust, he lost himself inside her and at the same time she came too. Their juices intermingled covering their nether regions with a proof of their lovemaking right now. He pulled himself off her his cock now flaccid and he laid beside her. Dany scooted closer to him, keeping her head on his sweaty chest, instead of the soft comfortable pillows, kept on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her bring her closer, her hair touching his chin and a few strands tickling his nose.
"How was I?" Dany softly asked.
"You were like Valyria before its destruction, like Rhaenys to Aegon the Conqueror, like the fires burning in the building. You were amazing." She giggled at it. She untangled herself from his arms and stared at him.
"You mean it?" She asked.
"Of course I mean it Dany. You were," He just indicated a blast with his arms, " I cannot put it into words. This night will be my best night for all the years that I'm alive." He then gave her a short and sweet kiss and got off the bed.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
"To get a blanket." He answered. He looked at the various doors and chose the one which had handles on it. He opened it to find a walk in wardrobe. He went inside to find a variety of clothes and jewels, in colours of beige, purple, plum, red, black, green, blue, pink, most of them being dark shades. There were various armbands and sword belts. He saw a thin blanket to one side and took it out. It was extremely soft and was dark blue in colour. He walked out and closed the wardrobe.
"What was in there?" She asked.
"Clothes, jewels, belts, armbands and many more things that I did not see." He replied. He opened the blanket and spread it over the bed, which covered Daenerys till her throat. He joined her in bed and scooted closer to her as she placed her head on his chest and roamed her hand on his uncovered chest. He kissed her head that was nestled against his chin. "Good Night." He muttered lazily as he took a huge yawn.
"Good Night." Dany said, half asleep and both of them fell into a deep slumber, the day's exhaustion taking a toll on their bodies and the general need to be close to each other.
The Young Direwolf
"Theon, Theon." He shouted into the cold, biting air. He had his scarf up, covering his nose and face, the cold northern air rushing in his dark ice-blue eyes. He shielded them by covering them with a hand while his other hand gripped Grey Wind's fur. He was out of Winterfell, on his way to the Barrowlands, trying to search for Theon Greyjoy. His outburst at Theon that was very bad, he admitted it, but Theon Greyjoy had just left Winterfell, considering he was not allowed to as he was a prisoner of war, for a lack of better words. He had left Winterfell alone, though he probably knew that a score of guards were following him, but they didn't dare come near him as his direwolf had a pretty strong nose. Grey Wind padded through the snows, leaving his big, for a wolf, footprints behind him as he continued to smell for the scent he had given to him. A scent that screamed Greyjoy and there was only one Greyjoy in Winterfell. Theon. As if on cue, Gery Wind rushed forward, and for the umpteenth time he thanked Tyrion for the igneous saddle he had designed. His legs were strapped to Grey Wind's body and Ice was in its sheath, also strapped to Grey Wind, fairly high so that he could take it out with ease and it didn't touch the ground. It was during the ongoing run, with the cold wind running across his face, leaving snowflakes in his auburn hair, bordering towards brown, and his newly grown beard. He remembered the very recent talk he had with Maester Luwin, about him holding the North as his father was in King's Landing. He remembered the council of the wizened, old man. It was a sharp one.
He was in his solar looking over the various messages he had received. Nearly all of them told that they would gladly part with some of their minerals and woods if it meant gaining the North some money. Lords Umber, Karstark, Bolton, Cerwyn, Mormont had already dispatched some of the items they had found and they were due to reach in about a week or so, less for the Cerwyn's. Lord Manderly had built a part of the Northern Navy and had started making freighter ships to the transport the various goods that the North had accumulated. Lord Howland Reed had also replied to the Raven, but with his own owl, which he found odd. He had told him that he would gladly come to Winterfell if his Lord called him and was on his way from the warm Neck to the cold North. He heard a knock on the door.
"Come in." He replied to the knock. The door of his solar slowly creaked open and Maester Luwin came in. He expected that the Maester would have a raven scroll in his hand and he certainly didn't expect the Maester to have hard words upon his lips.
"Lord Robb, may I presume to ask the whereabouts of Theon Greyjoy?" The Maester asked. He had feared this talk with anyone and nobody had noticed the Greyjoy, even after he had been gone for a day, so he was grateful to the gods. But it seemed that the old Maester had finally caught up. "And please, My Lord, do not lie." He hung his head down and told the Maester the whole story. From the Wolfs Wood to the grounds and their fight. What all he had said.
"Well, My Lord, you should dispatch guardsmen to look for him and send a raven to Lady Dustin to have her men search the Barrowlands."
"No this is my mess, I'll find him and bring him back here. The summer snows are not too hard so it will be okay and before you say anyone about hurting me I'll take Grey Wind. I'm Sure they will think twice before attacking a direwolf and a man with a sword huge as Ice. Maester tell Farlen to release Grey Wind. I'll go right now." The Maester nodded and left him alone in his solar. He exited his solar and went to his room and donned his woollen cloak, the bands making an 'X' on his chest. He picked up Ice and went outside and was immediately greeted by Grey Wind.
"Hey Boy." He greeted the large direwolf and proceeded to hug him, Grey Winds large, fuzzy, yet warm, neck beside his own and his hands roaming the direwolf's warm back. He stood up and then proceeded to attach Ice, along with its sheath, to the saddle.
"Maester Luwin." He called out. He could see the Maester walking towards him, fast and brisk, and came and stood beside him. "Take care of both Rickon and Winterfell. They are under your protection until I return." He told the Maester. The Maester nodded at the newly given responsibility. He got on Grey Wind's back and motioned him to go forward, outside the gates of Winterfell, to find Theon Greyjoy and bring his sorry ass back to Winterfell.
The boost of speed that Grey Wind had acquired in a short span of time ended. Where the large, direwolf stopped, he started sniffing the area, moving in short circles. Grey Wind suddenly stopped and looked east or that is what he thought. Where the direwolf looked he only found shrubs, coated white from the heavy snowfall that had happened. The direwolf turned his massive head and looked at him with his intelligent yellow gaze as if it contained years and years and worth of knowledge as it challenged him if he would or wouldn't find Theon behind the bushes. Giving into Grey Wind's gaze he got off him, his feet touching the soft ground, barely producing any sound, as the cold seeped into his warm boots giving him the chills. He approached the shrubs as he took out his dirk from its small sheath, which was strapped to his sword belt, which contained a short-sword. He cut down the shrubs, making a path for him to travel to the other side. A damn fool, you are Robb Stark, not to trust a direwolf's nose, he berated himself as he saw what was on the other side.
Theon was propped on a tree, a blanket covering him, but the blanket did not quite cover him, giving Theon the chills of the snow that had accumulated on him. Theon's face was red from the cold, the snow having formed whiskers on his face. Theon's horse Stranger was lying on the side, unmoving due to the cold that had already claimed him. He went near the tree and Picked up Theon swinging him over his shoulder. He went back to Grey Wind finding himself to meet the yellow gaze of his most trusted companion. Grey Wind's eyes seemed to mock him for doubting the direwolf as he saddled himself to The direwolf and attached Theon to him with the spare both of cloth he had cut from the blanket. Theon's blanket separated them both as he urged Grey Wind forward, telling him to take them to Winterfell.
The Lady Direwolf
She was sitting on the same seat on which she had sat the previous day. On her left sat Jeyne Poole and on her right sat Arya, wearing a pretty blue dress, just like she had worn yesterday. Today she wore a red and blue dress, complimenting her eyes and hair and showcasing the colours of her mother's house. House Tully. She could see the banners hanging down, showcasing the Seven great houses of Westeros. Baratheon, Lannister, Stark, Arryn, Martell, Tully, and Tyrell. She remembered all the sigils and words by heart and could recite them even now if anyone asked her. The seats around were filled with the commoners who had come to see the Jousts, the knights in their beautiful armour and the great chargers caparisoned in silver and gold and in the sigils of the people houses. She saw the Kingsguard in their pure white cloak and armour except for Ser Jaime who wore his gilded armour, indicating his house, House Lannisters, famous for being the richest house of Westeros.
She looked back to where the King and Queen had been seated. Makeshift thrones had been erected in their honour, and for their three golden children, Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen but only Joffrey was seated. They Were guarded by Ser Preston Greenfield and the Hound both wearing opposite colours, White and Black respectively. She could not see Orys over there, as she had assumed that Orys would be seated next to the King because the King was fond of him. The King was wearing a red shirt with a black and gold doublet, His hair loose and his fierce beard hiding his chin and most of his face, which was red. He was wearing a crown made of gold, gilded stags decorating the surface with various onyx stones fitted in it.
The queen, on the other hand, was wearing a crimson gown, with a multitude of jewels, most of them decorated with emeralds, complimenting her eyes. Her hair was done up like a crown such that she didn't need a crown but she still wore a crown of gold, which perfectly disappeared in her golden hair. Joffrey was wearing a crimson doublet with gold lion head studs sewn into it and a dark red silk cloak draped over his right shoulder. His head had a slim cornet made of gold and sapphires, marking him as the Heir to the Iron Throne.
Tommen and Myrcella were nowhere to be found until she saw Orys, wearing a dark blue shirt with a black doublet fitted with silver stags, breeches, and shoes, escorted them. His hair like his father was loose but it did not reach his shoulders. His blue eyes were alight with happiness as he escorted his younger brother and sister to their seats. For a moment she saw the Queen's and Joffrey eyes alight with anger until Myrcella stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Orys on the cheek in a sisterly way. After that Queen stood up hurriedly and left while Joffrey's knuckles were white from him gripping the arms of his chair tightly. Suddenly a beast of a man, eight-feet tall, wearing black armour, and a black flat-topped greathelm. His stallion was full black, a mammoth too, caparisoned in yellow cloth that showcased the symbol. Three black dogs a yellow field. She ransacked her brain to find which house the sigil belonged to.
"That is Gregor of the House Clegane. He is called the 'Mountain that Rides' and is the older brother of the Hound. People call him the Mad Dog of Tywin Lannister but don't let him hear it." A sassy voice said from behind. She whipped her hair back and found herself staring at a pair of smiling grey-green eyes. The man who they belonged to had a sharply pointed face with a pointed beard. "Petyr Baelish, my lady," He said as he kissed the back of the offered hand, as courtesy demanded, "I can't help but say that you look exactly like your mother, very beautiful." She found herself blushing at the comment, the lady in her rising up.
"Thank you, Lord Baelish," He gave a short smile at that, "but may I inquire as to how you know my mother?" She asked.
"Well, you see I was raised as a ward to your maternal grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully, in Riverrun and I grew up with your mother Catelyn, your Aunt Lysa and Uncle Edmure." He explained.
"Why are you called Littlefinger?" Arya's inquisitive voice came from beside her.
"Arya. Don't be rude." Septa Mordane screeched and she probably expected to give Arya a hearing, but knowing her little sister, the Septa would not be able to do anything.
"Oh. It's quite alright." Baelish said. He then looked at Arya and recited as to how he got the name Littlefinger. "You see when I was a little child I was very small and I come from a little spit of land called the Fingers in the Vale, so you see. Its an exceedingly clever nickname." He said.
"I've been sitting here for days. Start the damn joust before I piss meself." A booming voice resonated. She looked back to see the King give Ser Preston his horn of wine. The crowd cheered and howled at the proclamation as the jousters came up and lined against each other.
The first was Jory, wearing drab armour against Ser Horas Redwyne, Petyr had whispered the name to them. Jory easily defeats him. The second match is between Ser Mandon Moore of the Kingsguard against Harwin, the latter easily defeated by the former. Next was again Jory against some member of House Frey, easily recognisable through the insignia on the shield. Jory defeated the man too. Each time someone from the knights clashed Jeyne would scream out in horror.
"Can you please stop screaming Jeyne. This is a joust Knights are supposed to clash." She admonished the girl. Jeyne stayed shut since then.
Next was Ser Balon Swann who defeated Alyn easily. After the match came Jory and free-rider named Lothor Brune. The tilted three times after which Lothor Brune was granted victory. The joust continues till afternoon, in which Ser Jaime Lannister rides brilliantly defeating Ser Barristan, who himself till now had unhorsed two men thirty and forty years younger than him. The Hound and his immense brother seem undefeatable as the ride through the lists winning every match.
The next match was between Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Hugh of the Vale. Ser Hugh wore a shiny new armour with blue cloak whose borders were trimmed with crescent moons. They both rode to opposite sides grabbing their lances and shield. The horn sound and both rushed towards each other, lances tilted towards each other. Ser Gregor's lance touched the knight but Ser Hugh was saved by his shield. They again rode against each other and this time Ser Gregor pushed his lance forward, which hit Ser Hugh on his throat. The crowd rose screaming as the newly minted knight was thrown from his horse and landed in front of them. A piece of Gregor Clegane's lance was still stuck in the throat as the knight coughed up blood from his mouth. Jeyne beside her started to cry hysterically and Septa Mordane was forced to take her out of the stands. The knight tried to move his hand but only failed which lead to his death. Two boys came up and dragged the body down the strands clearing the place.
Time passed but Septa Mordane and Jeyne didn't return back, leaving her alone with Petyr Baelish and Arya. The next pair of Jousters were Sandor Clegane the Hound, in his black armour, and Lord Renly, in his green armour. The helmet of the Hound was in the shape of a snarling dog while Lord Renly wore an antlered helm very similar to what the King and Orys wore, except the helm was green and the horns were gilded. The crowd cheered for the well known and loved Lord Renly Baratheon. They rode against each other, and in two jousts the Hound had defeated Lord Renly, who fell from his horse and one of his gilded antlers broke off. Lord Renly then took the broken antler and gave it to the Hound who merely through it into the crowd which led to a riot. It was only after Lord Renly subsided the riot that the jousts began again. By approximately four in the evening, only four contestants were left. They were, Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Jaime Lannister, Ser Gregor Clegane and Sandor Clegane.
The next joust, of the semi-finals, was between Ser Jaime Lannister and the Hound. Ser Jaime was at one end of the crown, in his gilded armour and white cloak while the Hound was in his black armour.
"It is Ser Jaime who will win. After all, a dog never bites the hand that feeds it." Petyr Baelish said. At that very moment, she saw her father come to the stands.
"Lord Baelish may you please shift so that I may sit with my daughters." Her father said.
"Of course my lord." He said and got up moving and disappearing altogether. Her father sat next to her looking intently at the joust that was going to happen and she too paid attention to it to find if Petyr Baelish had told the truth. The Hound and Jaime Lannister clashed together, their lances breaking against each other, while both were pushed back a bit from their saddle. The second time they rode The Hound soundly beat Ser Jaime, pushing him away from his saddle, while the King guffawed loudly at his demise of not being able to see through his half mangled helm. Ser Jaime was then taken by his squires.
After the joust between Ser Jaime and the Hound, Ser Loras had started distributing white roses to all the maidens in the crowd, wearing a silver armour decorated with black sapphires and twining vines. She could see all the maidens and some already married women swoon at the beautiful knight. By the corner of her eye, she could see Ser Loras coming towards her. He stopped exactly in front of her from his white cloak, sewn with mistletoe and procured forth a red rose.
"No victory is as half so beautiful as you." Ser Loras said in a rich voice. She couldn't help but blush at his comment he went and took his place at the opposite stand.
Ser Loras, his armour, his mare, all graceful and white, contrasted to Ser Gregor, his armour and his stallion, all muscled and black. She couldn't help but notice that Ser Gregor's stallion seemed to be acting strangely around the mare. As soon as the pass is done Ser Gregor's mount breaks into a hard gallop, while Ser Loras rode his mare smoothly. She could see Ser Gregor struggling with his horse, shield and lance and when the two knights clash, Ser Gregor is thrown off his horse, with Ser Loras' lance still intact. At the win of Ser Loras, the crowd starts to cheer wildly. Ser Loras did victory laps, waving his hand at the people, acknowledging his victory.
"Sword." She heard someone shouting, and looked towards there to see Ser Gregor, standing, his face now vivid and clear and red, in anger. She saw three squires carrying a six-foot-tall, double-handed greatsword, somewhat like Ice, but far heavier, because even she knew that Valyrian Steel was lighter than normal steel. The squires hurried to Ser Gregor and just as they reached Ser Gregor took the sword, holding the horse steady. He unsheathed the sword and swung it at the horse, decapitating it with one blow. The crown looked flabbergasted at the display, and Ser Gregor kept on marching towards Ser Loras, one hand held his greatsword and the other in a tight fist. Ser Gregor sent Ser Loras in the ground on his first blow with his fist and raises his sword to deliver the killing blow until out of somewhere the Hound came and locked swords with his brother. The Hound and the Mountain start trading blows with each other, with the Mountain sending his blows directly to his son's head, but the Hound stopped each one of them, remaining on the defensive. When she looked around she could see Joffrey's face lit with pure glee, while Orys was taking care of his little brother and sister, who were afraid. The King was red with anger and the crowd looked shocked.
"Stop this madness in the name of your King." King Robert shouted above the sound of the clashing blades and the Hound dropped to one knee while Ser Gregor's blade missed him by a hair's breadth. Ser Gregor angrily threw the sword on the ground and strode off. "Let him go." The King said and the crowds parted away to let Ser Gregor go.
She could see Ser Loras from the corner of her eye, approaching the Hound.
"I owe you my life Ser." Ser Loras said.
"I am no Ser." The Hound rebuffed. Ser Loras then grabs his hand and waves it up in the air and the crowd starts to hoot and shout.
"I present you the winner of the Joust." Ser Loras shouted while the Hound nodded his head to everyone.
The feast that was going to happen besides the river and a huge dais had been erected. Her father, being the Hand of the King, had the honour to sit on the dais with his family, consisting of only Arya and her and Septa Mordane. She was reluctantly seated next to Joffrey and searched the table below for Orys. Joffrey had worn a deep blue doublet studded with double rows of lion heads and around his brow wore the slim coronet he had worn for the jousts.
"My lady." She heard and turned to see Joffrey smiling at her. She gave him a fake smile as he pressed his wormy lips to her hand. Prince Joffrey, a proper lion she could tell because had nothing of the king in him, unlike Orys who looked like him and fought with a hammer. Joffrey was not a true prince and not a Baratheon. Her brother Jon or Jaehaerys was the true prince and Orys was a true Baratheon.
"Let the wine flow and the feast begin." The King shouted and the servants began pouring iced summerwine in everybody's cups. They even poured it in her cup but she anxiously looked at Septa Mordane for permission until the servant even filled the Septa's cup who just nodded and didn't pay attention to her. She, taking this as a yes, drank from her cup. She looked around the banquet, and she saw two heavy chests being brought in front of the King. One of them was bigger than the other, both of them embossed with the crowned stag of House Baratheon.
"Orys." The King shouted. Orys from somewhere came forward, not drunk like his father, at which she was surprised, and knelt at the feet of the King.
"Father."
"Joffrey." The King again shouted. Joffrey stood up and went before the King and followed Orys' example of kneeling in front of the King.
"Father."
"Both my sons have done me proud and I wish to reward them." The King then summoned the servant to bring forward the larger box, and the servant kept it in front of the King. The King kicked the box open to reveal a beautiful hammer, the head being dark, but she could see the waves present in it. Valyrian Steel, her mind offered. It was not only that what caught the eye. What caught the eye was the presence of the overlapping golden waves which didn't quite meet its grey counterpart, creating two distinct set of ripples. Both the sides of the hammer were flat, so that it could only be used to injure and not kill. The handle too was black, with a stang inlaid in it, made of pure gold. Beside the Hammer was another hammer-head. It was similar to the previous hammer-head, which was attached to the handle, except that the sides were made of spikes instead of being flat. This was made to kill, this was made to be used in war.
"Orys for you, this beautiful hammer, with an additional hammer-head, made of Valyrian Steel, melted from the two Greatswords present in the armoury, of the Mad King, intertwined with the colour gold, representing the Baratheon colours. The handle is dragonbone, from the Dragon Balerion, inlaid with gold in the shape of a stag. This head is made for tourneys. The other head is made for war. This is yours." Orys stepped forward and gently picked up the hammer out of the box, cradling it like a newborn baby. "Name it." The King shouted. The crowd picked up the pace until almost everyone was shouting at Orys to name the hammer.
"Maelstrom," Orys shouted in the air, waving the hammer, as everybody clapped. He put it back in the case and the King ordered the servant to put it Orys' chambers.
The King then ordered the next servant to bring the next box, which he again placed at the foot of the King. He kicked open the box to reveal a beautiful Sword.
"Joffrey for you, this beautiful sword, made of Valyrian steel with the same overlapping colours of Gold in it. The handle is also dragonbone, from the Dragon Meraxes, inlaid with gold in spirals. The ruby above is from the rubies of the breastplate belonging to Rhaegar Targaryen, with two gold antlers above it to acknowledge your heritage of both the Houses Baratheon and Lannister." Joffrey, like a giddy child, picked it up and slashed the air in front of him. "Name it." The King again shouted and the crowd one more joined the shouting.
"Stormbreaker," Joffrey shouted in the air, waving the sword, as everybody clapped at their prince. He put it back in the case the King again ordered the servant to keep it Joffrey's chambers.
"Today I'm proud to announce that House Baratheon has not one but two Valyrian Steel weapons and that Orys will be leaving to the ancestral seat of House Baratheon, Storm's End in three days time." He announced to the guests. The guests clapped at the announcement, though she did think it was more on the part of the Valyrian Steel addition to House Baratheon rather than the part where Orys would be leaving to Storm's End. "Let the feast continue." He again shouted and the servants went and kept pouring iced summerwine and the courses that came. A thick soup of barley and venison. Salads of sweetgrass and spinach and plums, sprinkled with crushed nuts. Snails in honey and garlic. She had never eaten snails before but after looking here and there she learned and quickly taught it to Arya, so that she would not make a mess of it. Then came trout fresh from the river, baked in clay; Septa Mordane helped her and Arya break the hard casing to expose the flaky white flesh in it. When the meat came she generously helped herself to a portion of it.
Later came sweetbreads and pigeon pie and baked apples fragrant with cinnamon and lemon cakes frosted in sugar, but by then she was so stuffed that she could not manage more than two little lemon cakes, as much as she loved them.
When the feast got over Joffrey came to her. "It grows late." He said, "Do you need a escort back to the castle."
"No." She said, trying to get away so that she could go with Septa Mordane, but she found her to be asleep. The streets this time were dangerous, even she knew that, so an escort wouldn't be bad if it wasn't Joffrey. "I mean yes, The roads would be dark and unsafe and I would be happy for some protection."
"Dog." Joffrey called out.
Sandor Clegane seemed to take form out of the night, so quickly did he appear. He had exchanged his armor for a red woolen tunic with a leather dog's head sewn on the front. The light of the torches made his burned face shine a dull red. "Yes, Your Grace?" he said.
"Take Lady Sansa, back to the castle and make sure no harm befalls her." Joffrey said before leaving her alone with the hound to escort her.
"Did you think that Joffrey was going to escort you." He asked.
"No. In fact, I am quite happy that he didn't." She said to the Hound.
The Hound snatched up a torch to light their way. She followed close beside him. The ground was rocky and uneven; the flickering light made it seem to shift and move beneath her. She kept her eyes lowered, watching where she placed her feet. They walked among the pavilions, each with its banner and its armour hung outside, the silence weighing heavier with every step. She could not bear the sight of him, he frightened her so, yet she had been raised in all the ways of courtesy. Somehow she complimented him. "You rode gallantly today Ser Sandor." she said.
Sandor Clegane snarled at her. "Spare me your empty little compliments, girl . . . and your ser's. I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows. My brother is a knight. Did you see him ride today?"
"Yes…," She began, " He was-"
"Gallant?" The Hound finished.
"No, he was terrifying. And no one could withstand him."
"No one could withstand him," the Hound rasped. "That's true enough. No one could ever withstand Gregor. That boy today, his second joust, oh, that was a pretty bit of business. You saw that, did you? Fool boy, he had no business riding in this company. No money, no squire, no one to help him with that armour. That gorget wasn't fastened proper. You think Gregor didn't notice that? You think Ser Gregor's lance rode up by chance, do you? Gregor's lance goes where Gregor wants it to go. Look at me. Look at me!" Sandor Clegane put a huge hand under her chin and forced her face up. He squatted in front of her, and moved the torch close. "There's a pretty for you. Take a good long stare. You know you want to. I've watched you turn away all the way down the kingsroad. Piss on that. Take your look."
She looked. The right side of his face was gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and a grey eye beneath a heavy brow. His nose was large and hooked, his hair thin, dark. He wore it long and brushed it sideways, because no hair grew on the other side of that face.
The left side of his face was a ruin. His ear had been burned away; there was nothing left but a hole. His eye was still good, but all around it was a twisted mass of scar, slick black flesh hard as leather, pocked with craters and fissured by deep cracks that gleamed red and wet when he moved. Down by his jaw, you could see a hint of bone where the flesh had been seared away.
"Most of them, they think it was some battle. A siege, a burning tower, an enemy with a torch. One fool asked if it was dragonsbreath." His laugh was softer this time, but just as bitter. "I'll tell you what it was, girl," he said, a voice from the night, a shadow leaning so close now that she could smell the sour stench of wine on his breath. "I was younger than you, six, maybe seven. A woodcarver set up shop in the village under my father's keep, and to buy favor he sent us gifts. The old man made marvellous toys. I don't remember what I got, but it was Gregor's gift I wanted. A wooden knight, all painted up, every joint pegged separate and fixed with strings, so you could make him fight. Gregor is five years older than me, the toy was nothing to him, he was already a squire, near six foot tall and muscled like an ox. So I took his knight, but there was no joy to it, I tell you. I was scared all the while, and true enough, he found me. There was a brazier in the room. Gregor never said a word, just picked me up under his arm and shoved the side of my face down in the burning coals and held me there while I screamed and screamed. You saw how strong he is. Even then, it took three grown men to drag him off me. The septons preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who's been burned knows what hell is truly like.
"My father told everyone my bedding had caught fire, and our maester gave me ointments. Ointments! Gregor got his ointments too. Four years later, they anointed him with the seven oils and he recited his knightly vows and Rhaegar Targaryen tapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Arise, Ser Gregor.' "
The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand. "He was no true knight," she whispered to him.
The Hound threw back his head and roared. Sansa stumbled back, away from him, but he caught her arm. "No," he growled at her, "no, little wolf, he was no true knight."
The rest of the way into the city, Sandor Clegane said not a word. He led her to where the carts were waiting, told a driver to take them back to the Red Keep, and climbed in after her. They rode in silence through the King's Gate and up torchlit city streets. He opened the postern door and led her into the castle, his burned face twitching and his eyes brooding, and he was one step behind her as they climbed the tower stairs. He took her safe all the way to the corridor outside her bedchamber.
"Thank you, my lord," Sansa said meekly.
The Hound caught her by the arm and leaned close. "The things I told you tonight," he said, his voice sounding even rougher than usual. "If you ever tell Joffrey . . . your sister, your father . . . any of them . ."
"I won't," Sansa whispered. "I promise."
It was not enough. "If you ever tell anyone," he finished, "I'll kill you."
People please do Review and as to mention the chapter is an unedited version. As soon as it has been edited I will post the chapter again. The mention of Valyrian in the story is going to be a lot and one more old language is going to be added. They will be written in normal English with the Italics and Underline as mentioned at the top of the story. This will be done from the next Chapter. Thank You all and the Story has just reached its 17k+ mark.
Thank You all and please do review.
