** This chapter is dedicated to Wilko Johnson, the man portraying Ser Ilyn Payne. Mr. Wilko is gravely ill & if you enjoy his performance in HBO's Game of Thrones or his music, stop by his Facebook page & tell him so. It's under his own name**
Maester Lorwrenn brushes a gloved finger at the base of the severed head and turns to us and says, " Look here ", says Maester Lorwrenn. All heads peer to where he points at the back of the head.
We see something through the hair. It is a tattoo of some sort. The Maester produces a small blade and carefully shaves the hair concealing the mark. We see a small tattoo in red ink of a fist with flames dancing on the knuckles.
" This is the mark of a servant of a high priest or priestess for the red god R'hllor. "
" A hand closed into a fist marks him as an assassin in the red god's service ", says the Maester.
" There is a woman who has seduced Stannis Baratheon into believing his claim is just for the Iron Throne, she is a priestess of this religion. "
" They call her, " the Red Witch ", but she is also known by the name, Melissandre. "
" Make no mistake, she be a woman but one bred and born to destruction and chaos and a hole within her seeking power that can never be filled ", says Maester Lorwrenn.
" Her god be a dark and hungry one and I believe it is her vile self and the evil she would bring that has awakened the Others. "
" Then let us turn the flame she worships against her and reduce her to ash ", says Dany with a voice laced with venom.
I look to Sandor his usually warm eyes now dark and flat as death itself. He pulls me into my one safe place that his strong arms provide. I lay my head on his chest, my gloved fingers curled into the mesh of his chain mail and pull him into me. I wonder if the shaky feeling I'm experiencing is evident in my stance. He places a gentle kiss atop my head.
The bell for small arms practice rings singling the end of it and the beginning of Rider's training to commence.
Maester Lorwrenn announces he wishes to make a study of the blade and poison and will bring all that he learns to our attention on the morrow.
We shamble in the direction of the Horn of Calling on the wide terrace. Sandor and my fingers interlaced as we walk hand in hand to our mounts who await us, they too eager for their daily practice flights.
My Summer is a beauty, the yellow of her scales amplified by the bright ball of light in the sky that is the merciless sun of Quarth. With every move of her sinuous neck the light plays and dances upon her scales. Tyrion's mount is a vivid emerald green, Sandor's Halcion is perched next to Drogon the big black dragon of Dany's.
A Dothraki man carries the saddle Tyrion has designed. His mount Wrath is already accustomed to it having worn it for near a weeks time, as all our mounts have. The dragons are now saddled, Drogon included after much debate between Ser Barriston and Dany. The merits of which Ser Barriston pointed out were not falling hundreds of feet to land with certain death. Today is the day we ride. It had been decided that that we each would ride one at a time with our dragon in the skies with Dany and her mount.
Ser Barriston and his silvery grey dragon, Vengeance take to the sky behind Drogon. They gain a height then practice banks, dives blowing flame and rolls. After a time they return to the terrace. Ser Barriston has the giddy look of a child with a new favorite toy when they land.
I am next and take to the air with Summer and I am... Free. The wind whips my hair back like a living flame in it's braid. I can see almost to Westeros it seems as we ascend to great heights only to plummet at swift speeds to almost touch the waters of the sea. I am saddened when it is time to return to the terrace and my heart races to the rhythm of the new freedom of flight.
We all take our turns and each rider returns with a broad smile and wide eyes, even my Sandor.
At meal time that evening we all speak of our experiences on the back of our mounts. Dany eyes Suozahn and nods to an Unsullied who approaches with a silk wrapped object. She rises and comes up to Suozahn and hands her the package.
She opens it to reveal an egg. It is a dark tan. Suozahn's eyes grow to the size of hen's eggs and she leaps up to grasp Dany in a fierce embrace. Tears stream down her face as she sits and strokes the eggs scales.
It is decided between the group that we will go to the Iron Bank of Braavos in a months time. It is also decided that Ser Barriston and Syrio will stay here and mind Quarth in Dany's absence.
As Sandor and I return to our rooms that evening and we both remove our armor. He follows me into the privy room and into the washing area. At a pull of a lever water runs through a section of the ceiling and pours out of small holes in it. It comes down like a rain shower and the cool of it is refreshing and draws my nipples up to hard points.
Sandor bends down to take one in his mouth and rolls his tongue over it, his fingers explore my opening and delve it's depths eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me. Have I told you how wonderful it is that he is big and strong ? I hop up and he cradles my backside in his hands as I wrap my long legs round his waist.
He guides his stiff cock within me and puts my back to the marble wall and begins to plumb the deepest part of me. I have a hand under his chin and pull his face towards mine and lock his mouth to mine in a lasting kiss. His breathing changes as does mine I know we will end this journey of wet want together and quickly my need for him like a great hunger searing me from inside out.
His kiss is eager, I suck on his tongue and run my tongue behind his teeth savoring his taste. The shadow of his whiskers rub red and raw my lips and face as he breaks our kiss to taste my chin, cheeks and throat. His thrusts pound into me and bring me to my come, as it explodes spreading heat from my parts outward and lights flash white hot behind my eyes.
my insides twitch and pulse, sucking his seed from him to me and it's wet reaches the innermost of my folds.
Our lovemaking and bathing done we dry ourselves and dress lightly and I walk to our terrace and look out to the sea. I know across it's expanse lies my home and the souls and lives of those peopling it are in jeopardy. Sandor eases up beside me and drapes an arm over my shoulders.
" We will return, Little Bird and right the wrongs of the Land. "
" I know, husband, I know but will there be a people left to save ? "
" Yes, Sansa and a Land to rebuild and children to raise. "
He leads me inside and sits me on a small bench in front of my looking glass. He picks up a brush and relaxes me by slow degrees with every stroke.
It always amazes me how such a large man who's strength and sometimes frightening temper can be so gentle. I think also on all the cruel jests and taunts I heard others speak, never of course in earshot of Sandor of his scarring and whoring ways and drunkenness.
" Why do you look at me so, wife ? "
" I am thinking of the beauty you really are, of your great and hidden heart. "
" Of your tenderness with me and Ned. "
" I love you, Sansa as I have since your first kindness to me. "
" I will love you and no other as long as I draw breath, Little Bird. "
" In the coming war will we win ? "
" We must ", is all he says between strokes of the brush.
" I love also the way you make me feel and how hard and deeply you love me ", as a grope for his manhood.
He gives me one of his crooked grins and slides a hand under my shift to awaken a nipple to attention. I slide to the floor and rest my elbows on the bench which I just sat and he kneels behind me and quickly has his cock out and guides it in me. With one hard thrust he breaches me and with a squeeze I wrap him in an internal embrace. There is no gentleness only hunger this time around. I buck and match his thrusts with ones of mine own, slamming into his thighs in a frantic, hot rhythm only lovers share. No slow build up only a hard come as my insides flutter and suck at his shaft, milking him.
Sated we both lay on the marble floor, the cool of it tempering the heat of moments before. I roll to be cradled in his embrace, listening to his mighty heart slow to it's normal resting beat.
I love him. I know this and have known it but it delights me nonetheless at every joining we share. It is then that we hear a light rap on the door.
We rise and adjust our clothing and Sandor opens the door to be greeted by Tyrion, Dan, Maester Lorwrenn and Ser Barriston.
" You have news it would seem by the looks on your face ", from Sandor.
" True and none of it good ", says Tyrion.
" And ", from Sandor.
" The priestess of R'hllor, Melissandre is being hailed as the Red Witch. "
" Rumors swirl about her like moths to flame. "
" They say she feeds her her god living flesh of unbelievers and as we speak Stannis marches on Winterfell to wrest it from that Bolton bastard. "
All eyes turn to me.
" Ramsey is not some inexperienced clod trying to prove himself. "
" He has the arms and men to hold the Keep and also the inclination. "
" You are not going to like this next bit of news, your Grace. "
My back is ramrod straight and my eyes meet that of Ser Barriston's, Sandor is close enough to me I can feel his heat.
" Jeyne Poole has been passed off as your sister Arya and has been wedded to the bastard Ramsey. "
" Thus securing succession of Winterfell when he produces an heir ", says I in a rush.
" Yes ", says Tyrion and Ser Barriston in concert.
" Will this madness never end ", I say in a hoarse whisper.
" It is a sickness of spirit and mind, Ramsey has always been a loose and wild spawn ", says Tyrion.
" His exploits are even spoken in whispers as far as King's Landing of his depraved behavior. "
" I regret also to inform you of Ser Rodrick's murder at the hands of the selfsame bastard. "
" Do you have any good news ? "
" I don't know if good is what I would call it. "
" You brother Jon on hearing Arya was being forced to wed and not knowing the true identity of your, " sister ", has enlisted the aid of the Northmen and none other than Mance Rayder also rides with them."
" Mance Rayder, who is Mance Rayder ? "
" Former Black Brother and referred to as , " King Beyond the Wall ", says Tyrion.
" Former, men join the black for life. "
" True, unless they are turncoats or traitors as is Mance ", from my husband.
" We are ready to set our plans in motion, once the loan at the Iron Bank is secured will we show part of our hand but not until then. "
" Has Lord Seaworth been apprised of our timing ? I ask.
" He has and already is calling ships to Quarth as well as sending some ", from Tyrion.
Sandor senses my shift in mood and closes the gap between us. He knows me well. Instead of the gentle touch as from our love making he grasps my shoulder in a hard grip and squeezes once.
The heat I felt a short while ago with my husband now returns only it a heat from my rising fury. I think to myself my revenge will know no bounds where it concerns Theon and BOTH Bolton's AND the Frey's AND Little Finger AND the Whore...