A/N: Currently sick at the moment, but I am holding on :)
Myles Hightower stepped onto the dock of the island of Lys, taking in the winds of the narrow sea and the cacophony of sounds that originated from the city. He found a group of Lysenes already waiting for him, with who he presumed to be a man of influence approaching him. Rich silks, jewels all over his body, clean as those back home… he's definitely a man of power, Myles thought.
"Greetings, Ser Myles," the Lysene man stepped forward. "I am Lysaro Rogare, son of Lysandro Rogare, the First Magister. On behalf of my house and the people of Lys, welcome to our city."
Myles Hightower had heard those names before, when Otto Hightower had made his alliance with the Triarchy by leveraging their hatred of the Rogue Prince. "I know who your father is, but I am not sure how to address you."
"I am no lord, so you can call me by my given name, but please address me with deference. I am, after all, the son of the First Magister for Life," Lysaro answered.
"Fair enough," Myles replied as he followed Lysaro and the Lysene procession to the city.
As he walked further into the island's port, Ser Myles' knowledge of the free city flashed through his mind. Lys was built on a fertile island, which was considered a paradise by the dragonlords of old. Sunlight was plentiful here, which made the soil fertile and allowed for the growth of palm and fruit trees. In addition, the surrounding blue-green waters were filled with fish, evidenced by the heavy fish smells that hit his nostrils when he first entered. Oldtown's ports smell like this, so nothing that I am not used to, Myles reminded himself.
Looking around, Myles saw the high walls that he heard about, which were manned by hired sellswords. Right, this city is not known for making warriors, he scoffed quietly. He remembered that Lys was a city dominated by wealth rather than by bloodlines, so naturally, trade would be considered a profession more honorable than arms. A city known only for its pillow houses and pleasure gardens… what is there to expect?
As they passed through the various markets and busy streets, people took a moment to dip their heads in respect to Lysaro Rogare, obviously having seen him before. Myles also saw many temples and shrines that were in every street and waterfront, including a shrine devoted to the fire deity Rh'llor, a temple devoted to Yndros, a deity that he was not very familiar with, and the one called The Temple of Trade, which he had no idea regarding its purpose. He had seen Rh'llor worshippers before, but this was the first time that he had encountered new faiths. I'm here to work, not take in new things, Myles scolded himself.
He was on a mission that could secure the Faith, which required a most solemn devotion and singular concentration. He was content on allowing Otto Hightower and Alicent to carry the banner of their cause, for Hightower blood will sit on the Iron Throne if they succeeded. However, Otto Hightower proved to be a disappointment and Alicent had succumbed to her maternal instincts in the end. Moreover, Ormund Hightower was killed in battle and his three sons too young to rule, allowing Otto Hightower to appoint himself as regent of Oldtown. Of course, many in the city balked at his action, since he betrayed their cause and made Ormund's sacrifice be for nothing. However, with Rhaenyra's blessing, Otto would come to their city with five thousand men to counter the City Watch of Oldtown, with another five thousand at Highgarden should the people of the city resist. Ten thousand men and with all of the dragons not on our side… we'll lose.
He might not have possessed the same fervor he had for the Faith as the Most Devout or a similar magnitude of distrust towards magic like the Citadel, but he was pious to the Faith and felt humiliated that the descendants of Valyrian upstarts were able to rule over them with dragons. They proved that there is always something better than us, and with one stroke, they could destroy us all and end chivalry as we know it if they wanted to. And more personally, he had been the Lord Commander of the Oldtown City Watch for years and did most of his house's dirty work, so this was his chance to prove that he was a suitable replacement for the dead Ormund, his young sons, and his traitorous uncle and cousin. Otto, Alicent, you fucked us all.
Finally, they approached what he presumed was the seat of House Rogare, a magnificent palace made of the whitest marble and resembling the architecture of old Valyria that Myles had seen when he was being educated. Inside were slaves, freedmen servants and maids, and hallways richly-decorated with all of the luxuries from the four corners of the world. Even Myles had to assume that nobody in Westeros enjoyed such a luxurious and idyllic existence. Also shows the depths of their vanity, he thought while resisting the temptation to roll his eyes.
They finally arrived at what appeared to be the main hall, where the tables were already covered with plates of food and chalices of wine, including the famed Lysene white and red wines. Lysaro led Myles to the head table, where an elderly man was supping with other Lysenes around Lysaro's age. They were all speaking the Lysene form of High Valyrian, which Myles honestly didn't know and hoped that they could all speak the common tongue.
The elderly man sensed their presence and smiled at Lysaro while the two exchanged words that Myles didn't understand. However, he was able to make out Lysaro introducing him since he heard his name.
"My father welcomes you to our fair city," Lysaro Rogare translated for him. "First, here are my brothers Fredo, Drako, Moredo, Lotho, and Roggerio. And my sisters Lysara, Marra, and Larra. Lotho and Roggerio can speak the common tongue also, so don't worry."
"Well met, all of you," Myles smiled politely, as he couldn't deny that all of them were truly beauties from old Valyria. Just like the Targaryens. Lysaro gestured him to a chair while calling for a servant to bring him a plate and some wine. "Thank you," he said to the servant, but he didn't speak the common tongue and therefore just walked away.
"My father the First Magister would like for you to know that we received your raven and has decided to discuss the matter with you in more detail," Lysaro said.
"I would have expected such details to be discussed in more private settings," Myles eyed each of the Rogare siblings with unease. He especially didn't like how the one called Larra Rogare was looking at him. That look… it's like a shadowcat stalking its prey.
"House Rogare controls the Rogare Bank, a family enterprise," Lotho joined in while speaking the common tongue with the Lysene lilt. "There are no secrets between us and therefore, when you speak to our father, you speak to the rest of us."
Myles drank his wine nervously, as he didn't expect such a close-knitted family to rule over Lys. His feelings were caught by the rest, who were very amused. "If I may, I do remember that your father had sixteen other children and a younger brother, Drazenko if I remember his name correctly. Where are they if the Rogare Bank is indeed a family business?"
After Lysaro translated for the rest, they murmured to each other. Did I ask the wrong thing? Myles was worried that he was starting off on the wrong foot.
Fortunately, Lysandro Rogare didn't seem offended and continued to speak to Lysaro. "He said that his other children and his brother are indisposed at the moment, but they will know what happened here."
Fair enough, Myles thought.
"Now, tell us," Lysaro brought the discussion back to focus. "Why have you come alone and what exactly does the Starry Sept hope to gain from a continuation of our alliance? Also, where is Ser Otto Hightower, the creator of our bond in the first place?"
"I trust you know that Ser Otto is now a man in the service of Rhaenyra Targaryen, wife of the Rogue Prince." At the mention of Daemon Targaryen, the one who so humiliated the Lysenes in the Stepstones, the Rogares' eyes darkened. "He's going to impose the new peace, which he had no authority to pass on behalf of my house, and once the peace has been forced on my city, you can for sure expect that the Targaryens will come after the Triarchy for helping us, as well as hold you accountable for the death of Jacaerys Velaryon and the kidnapping of Viserys Targaryen."
"The boy is safe in our custody," Lysaro revealed. "You can ask my sister Larra for the details."
I would rather not, Myles thought. Besides having a predator's gaze, the Lord Commander of the Oldtown City Watch could see something else in her eyes, one that he saw before when he arrested a man who was later punished for buggering a child. And I thought men were the only ones who could do that, he felt his skin crawl at the thought. "Rhaenyra will not care if you are treating him well. She's going to demand his immediate return home as well as compensation for all of the damages you've done."
"Nonsense," Lotho scoffed. "It was war. Capturing Prince Viserys and doing damage to the Velaryons' home were just natural consequences, both of which benefitted us greatly."
"The dragons will not see it that way and Rhaenyra will not be merciful to those who wronged her," Myles was genuinely afraid of that, especially since Daeron Targaryen was back in the Red Keep.
"I see how precarious our situation may be, but remind us again," Lysaro stated. "What exactly do you have to lose if Rhaenyra should cement her rule as queen?"
Myles explained the roles of the Starry Sept and the Citadel in assassinating little Jaehaerys and Maelor while also organizing the riots that killed Joffrey Velaryon and a few other dragons in the dragonpit. He also divulged that Ser Tyland Lannister, as himself, had no intention of returning the portions of the treasury that they stole.
The Rogares did not seem surprised at all, except maybe Lotho. "I didn't know that you people had the gall to pull this off. Then again, now your stakes have been revealed," he exhaled while running his hand through his silver hair.
"The devout members of House Hightower, as well as the Citadel and the Starry Sept, can expect to be burned by dragonfire should Oldtown fall under Rhaenyra's control. However, we're also not blind in thinking that faith alone can protect us, so it'll be in our mutual interests to continue our alliance so that we can both be protected," Myles explained.
"Hold it right there," Lysaro stopped him. "We understand your points and we can see the need for mutual protection. However, while we can provide you protection from the sea, the same cannot be said on land. Unless you intend to hire sellswords with the gold you have with you, you'll be dangerously outnumbered against their armies."
"We considered that. That's why we will contact House Martell to contribute their banners inn defense of the Faith," Myles said.
The Rogare family members again murmured in the Lysene variant of Valyrian, and Myles could sense that they weren't skeptical. "We have to admit that using the very people who withheld dragons is quite ingenious," Roggerio stated. "However, their exploits were all on their home turf and their offensive capabilities were proven to be quite dismal. For them to have the confidence and motivation to fight for you, you'll have to use more than their piousness."
"If you have ideas, I'm happy to hear them," Myles opened his mind.
"It seems that Aliandra Martell, daughter of Prince Qoren, is in need of a husband. Perhaps our uncle Drazenko could help seal the alliance between the Triarchy and Dornish once more," Lysaro remarked.
That could work, Myles thought.
"Also, as your Citadel and Starry Sept do not allow its members to marry while House Hightower has eligible bachelors, perhaps a marriage contract between us can be formed up," Lotho added.
Myles blinked. "Who do you suggest to be the groom and bride in that instance?"
"Why, you of course," Lysaro grinned while the Rogares laughed with each other.
Myles also laughed, but he could slowly sense that they were being serious. "I'm just a knight of House Hightower—"
"But you do have a claim on the Oldtown lordship," Lysaro translated for his father. "You said yourself that you will resist Otto Hightower and that Lord Ormund's sons are mere boys. Waiting for either of them to be able lords in their own rights requires time and a good dose of luck, but I can sense that you don't have both." Myles continued to listen. "If you want our alliance to have some substance, you should be the one to marry into our family."
Myles did not like the idea of marrying a woman who had a very different upbringing than his and certainly didn't like how freely the women of House Rogare moved about. However, the more he thought about it, the more the benefits were revealed to him. "If I were to agree to your proposal, who would you recommend that I take as a wife?"
"Perhaps you'll be amenable to my daughter… Marra," Lysaro translated for his father.
Compared to both Lysara and Larra, Marra's beauty was not very striking, but she certainly was still more beautiful than many other women. "My… lord," she tried her best pronunciation of the common tongue. "I… love… books. Being… in Oldtown… would be like… living in a… library."
A woman who likes reading… interesting, Myles noted. "Your daughter Marra seems to have a good head and is pretty, but why not Lysara and Larra?"
"Our father plans to leave an inheritance to Lysara, so she must remain here," Lotho explained. "For Larra, she is intended to be the wife of Prince Viserys."
That, Myles didn't expect. And it only confirmed the suspicion he had about her. "Isn't she a woman almost grown and he still a boy?"
"Yes, which is why it'll be easier for her to make him into a pliable husband," Lysaro quipped.
Myles tried very hard to hide his disgust. No matter his feelings towards the Targaryens, he abhorred those who would take advantage of children. However, he also thought that it was a great strategy, since it would deprive Rhaenyra of a healthy male heir. "Okay. That sounds like a good idea. It'll weaken the whore queen and she'll have to give in to whatever demands you send her, or she would humiliate her son."
Lysaro smiled, impressed. "Finally, someone from outside our family who can understand our stratagem. It'll help to have the dragonlords as our goodfamily."
That notion, to Myles, was a double-edged sword. If the Lysenes suddenly become dissatisfied with us, they might turn the Targaryens onto us and without the Triarchy's support, we'll be decimated. "Perhaps I can stay here until Larra Rogare weds Viserys, and then, they can both come to Oldtown with us so as to dangle to Rhaenyra her failure to protect her son."
"I like the way he's thinking," Roggerio chuckled. "Looks like you're more than just a simple knight far removed from your family's ancestral lands."
Myles Hightower just accepted that poke at his pride. "So… I can report back to Oldtown that the Triarchy will continue its alliance with us?"
"Yes, you can," Lysaro bobbed his head. "We will provide the ships you need, we will help you deliver the Dornish, and together, we shall inflict pain on House Targaryen, the same kind of pain that the Rogue Prince inflicted on us when he was a younger man in the Stepstones."
Myles had to admit that hatred did have a practical use and for his moment, it would help his house and the Faith greatly.
"But we have one last question. How do you intend to counter the dragons, the actual ones?" Marra inquired.
Myles blinked again, as a woman never addressed him as his equal. But he let it slide, for she would be important. "House Targaryen might have dragons still, but less than half remain and two of the strongest dragons still alive, Vhagar and Sunfyre, are nowhere to be found. With those two alone not flying against us, we should have a chance."
"And may we ask that you send us a portion of the royal treasury you have with you as a down payment?" Lysaro interpreted for his father. "The Triarchy incurred large expenses providing your side with ships, so we must present the other magisters with something in return for their efforts."
Myles didn't want to part with a single gold dragon, but he had to act on behalf of those back home. "Give me some time, and your portion will come."
"Thank you," Lotho answered.
"Now, let's celebrate with a feast. You are welcome as our guest and all of our pillow houses are yours to enjoy!" Lysaro raised his goblet, to which Myles reciprocated.
He wasn't a man to enjoy the company of whores, but the gesture was enough. But more importantly, if the marriage alliance was to go through successfully, he at least had to make an effort to know his future betrothed Marra. As Oldtown was the site of all knowledge generated throughout Westeros, he had to request the Citadel to make some accommodation for her. He knew that soon, he would have to see if Viserys Targaryen was unspoiled and in good health, for he would another key to how they could hold against Rhaenyra. For now, he would pore Marra a cup of wine and get to know her tonight. Oh Father above, please give me the strength and wisdom to see this through, he prayed.
Jon Flint studied the layout of the Rogare palace carefully alongside the other leader, Denys Dustin.
The nephew of Roderick Dustin was very eager to take part in the war, but he was not able to partake since he had to help his cousin run Barrowton. And by the time that he was able to fight, Denys' uncle had been killed and the war was close to being won. Denys insisted on having a part, so Torrhen Manderly offered him a place in what he described as "something that would change the realm for the better."
Jon Flint, alongside Denys Dustin and fifty other northmen, were able to dock in Lys' harbor without any obstacles, which was more surprising given that they flew a Manderly banner on their mast. What's more, no one asked them any questions nor anyone tried to detain them. Jon Flint and Denys Dustin were confused, since they would've expected the Triarchy to detain them as supporters of Rhaenyra. Deciding that it was better to not draw attention on themselves, Jon Flint approached a sellsword in a tavern, presenting himself as an adventurer from the north of Westeros.
"Why would northmen be worried for their safety in Lys? It's not like they killed people who were in the service of the magisters," the sellsword told him straight.
"But they're fighting for the same ruler whose son burned the Triarchy's ships at Driftmark," Jon Flint argued for the opposing side.
"But the northmen did not have dragons and it wasn't their ships that sent those poor souls to the bottom of the narrow sea," the sellsword answered. "While Cregan Stark won victories on land, it wasn't against anyone in the Triarchy's service, so the magisters consider the northmen a third party not actively opposed against them."
Jon Flint was having a hard time wrapping his head around their logic. No matter if the northmen didn't actually kill Triarchy men, since Cregan Stark sided with Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Triarchy had to fight them. Unless they didn't want to lose their lucrative trade agreement with the only house in the North that had an actual port, they were simply not interested in fighting more adversaries, or both. This works in our favor either way, Jon Flint thought.
Thanks to Lady Mysaria's little birds, the northmen were able to find lodgings with someone who wouldn't betray them and be able to assess the area without raising too much suspicion. Jon Flint was chosen to lead this endeavor since he had been in the Free Cities before and knew how to blend in with any crowd, but he was very worried about Denys Dustin. He admired his spirt and eagerness, but he had to keep him on a short lease since he had the potential to jeopardize their plans. Youth… what can you do?
What astonished Jon Flint was that Lady Mysaria had someone who was part of the household of House Rogare. And she was not just some random servant. She was responsible for changing all of the sheets every day and oversaw all of the other servants and slaves carrying food whenever each of the Rogare brood wanted to eat in private. Because of her, Lady Mysaria was able to get an exact location on where Prince Viserys was and what kind of guard he had.
All that Lady Mysaria asked in return for her help was to get that servant out of that palace and take her with them back to Westeros. Jon Flint nodded. "I accept," he said.
In the dead of night, he met with that servant in the back area of a tavern run by another of Mysaria's little birds. "When would be a good time to carry out our raid?" Jon Flint got to the point.
"I just received word that someone of importance was coming from Oldtown. Is the name Myles Hightower familiar to you?" she asked.
Jon was surprised. "The Lord Commander of the Oldtown City Watch?"
"Yes, I think that was his official title," the servant remembered. "They're going to prepare a feast for his first night at their palace and there will be plenty of drunken Rogares and other people of importance at that time. If you want to rescue Prince Viserys, you'll have to do it tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow night?" Jon Flint asked with some shock.
"They estimate that Myles Hightower's ship will come in the afternoon, so yes, that's when the feast will begin."
We'll have to speed up our plans then, Jon Flint thought quickly. "Thank you," he smiled gratefully.
"And you will keep your promise?"
"Make sure that we can see you when we enter their palace. Once we secure Prince Viserys, we will take you with us. Don't worry." The servant nodded in gratitude before she scurried back to the Rogare palace.
The plan that they came up with was that in the event of a feast or major festivity, Jon, Denys, and the northmen would enter the palace disguised as meat couriers. A generous amount of meat was a sign of wealth and power, and the Rogares would surely order a large amount for any feast. Another of Lady Mysaria's birds ran a slaughterhouse that sold to the Rogares, so they would deliver the meat and thus get past the heavy guard that was to surround the palace. Once inside, the servant would lead them towards Viserys' rooms, where they would subdue any guards and get the young prince out. However, not trusting the servant to keep her word out of mere caution, he had everyone memorize the layout of the palace to its last door.
"I cannot stress enough that even with all of this planning, the likelihood of any of us getting out alive and back home is slim," Jon Flint said to the gathered northmen. "If any of you still have doubts about your involvement and wish to take no part in this, step away right now. I will not hold any hard feelings towards you and I will say nothing to our queen." When all of the remained and kept their determined expressions, Jon glanced at Denys Dustin, who nodded. "All right. Let's get the prince back."
One group of the men would be at the boats, ready to cast off as soon as they were able to go to the docks. Another group would be just outside of the palace to protect their wagons, and the group to enter the palace, led by Jon Flint and Denys Dustin themselves, would commit the deed to rescue Prince Viserys. Jon Flint told them all to not draw their swords if possible, as any blood spilled would drastically decrease their chances of escape.
Loading the meat carcasses onto their wagons along with plenty of blankets, Jon Dustin hid his blade while he urged the horse on towards the Rogare palace. He could see the white marble glistening against the many torches lit and the sounds of what seemed like the notorious debauchery of the Lysenes being heard from outside. Jon Flint spent time in the brothel, but it was never this loud. The old gods help me, he groaned silently.
Before they could go through the back entrance, a couple of Rogare guards stopped them and spoke to them in the Lysene variant of Valyrian. One of the butcher's boys spoke for them while they searched each of the carcasses. Once they were satisfied, the guards let them through. Good thing too, Jon released his grip on his sword as he feared them discovering them.
Jon Flint, Denys Dustin, and the group unloaded the meat carcasses and carried them to the kitchen, with each of the cooks shouting at each other and busy to prepare new dishes. The servant and Jon Flint nodded at each other, with the former handing each of them plates to carry to the rooms.
"Follow me," she whispered to them. Since everyone in the kitchens were busy cooking food, they didn't pay them any mind.
Jon Flint and Denys Dustin heard moaning from each of the rooms, leaving nothing to their imagination regarding what was happening. The distant relative of Flints of Flint's Finger had sensed that not all of them were willing, since Lys was a hub for the slave trade, but he shook his head since he was only here for one person. He didn't have a good opinion of slavery, but he was not naïve in believing that he could do anything for them. Stay on task, Jon reminded himself.
Eventually, they came towards where Viserys was held, which had three guards in front of the door. One of them stopped the servant, as they spoke to each other in Lysene Valyrian. Jon could guess that she was trying to get them to enter, only for the guard not be cooperative. The guard then approached Jon and tried to speak to him, only to realize that he didn't speak their language. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before they were compromised, Jon grabbed his dagger and stabbed him upwards through the chin while the rest overwhelmed the other two. They did their best to minimize the noise.
The servant shook her shock away as she grabbed the keys that would open Viserys' doors. "I'm sorry," Jon apologized.
"You did what you had to do," the servant brushed off as she found the key. "Just get who you came for and let's get out of here."
Jon bobbed his head, signaling each of the northmen to be ready, as she finally opened the door and they saw Prince Viserys with an older lady. From what the latter was doing… what the fuck? he could only think.
"When can I come back?" Viserys asked his father.
"You know the bad people I was telling you about, the ones who want to hurt muña?" Viserys nodded. "Well, you have to go someplace safe until we can beat them. We'll worry about you and your brother if you stay with us and we have to fight those who want to hurt us very much."
"What about Jacky, Luke, and Joffrey? Will they come?" Viserys asked about his Velaryon half-brothers.
"They're old enough and they can ride dragons, so they have to stay here with us," Daemon rubbed his youngest son's shoulder.
"But I can ride a dragon," Viserys didn't want to leave. "I want to stay here with you."
"My son, in time you will. But now, I need you to go on that ship and do what we ask. When it's safe, we'll bring you back. I promise."
"But when?"
"Hopefully, soon," Daemon was clearly sad to part with his son, but he knew that this was necessary. He then hugged Viserys and then Aegon tightly. "Be safe, you two."
All Viserys could feel was how much he was overwhelmed with what he had seen. Remembering his parents telling him that he had to go someplace until the "bad people who wanted to hurt muña" were beaten, he remembered getting on a ship and being bored out of his mind until he heard shouting on the deck. He didn't know where his brother Aegon was until he saw his brother's dragon fly off, even though it was badly hurt. Then, he saw strange men enter the boat, blood covering their armor and swords, until one of them knelt down and spoke the common tongue in a strange lilt. "Hello, Prince Viserys. I've come to take you home with me."
The youngest son of Daemon Targaryen and Rhaenyra was excited despite the blood, until they arrived at an island and he realized that it was not Dragonstone. There were more people there, people looked exactly like him, and he saw people in chains. He heard his father talk about seeing slaves and he winced every time he saw them being whipped.
Eventually, they arrived at a large palace, with more people who had the blood of old Valyria, and one of the older men, who introduced himself as Lysaro, said, "Welcome, Prince Viserys."
"When can I go home?" Viserys asked innocently.
Lysaro and the others laughed. "We need to talk to your parents about some things," Lysaro answered. "Once they give us what we want, you can go home. It shouldn't take more than a week."
But a week turned into a moon, and then a moon into several. When he was first shown into his room, he saw a woman who introduced herself as Larra enter. Although she was not as pretty as his mother, she was certainly a beauty from old Valyria and her revealing gowns showed him the secret parts of a woman's body. However, he didn't quite understand why he was feeling something deep inside and just froze.
It didn't help that Larra couldn't speak the common tongue, which she had her slave interpret for her. And the first thing that she made Viserys see was her chaining a male slave to his bed, disrobing herself, and riding him.
Viserys blinked and his breathing hitched while he tried to turn his eyes away, but another servant grabbed his chin and kept him looking. "You're going to be a man, so you should get used to his," she whispered in his ear.
Every night before Viserys went to bed, Larra had either a slave or a servant come into his room and she would bed him or her while she made the young Targaryen prince watch. And she looked into his eyes as she did the deed in addition to giving him a lusty grin. He didn't understand why she was doing this, but he felt powerless and could only sit still.
Another time, Larra brought a slave into his chambers, ripped off her clothes, and gave Viserys a whip. "She wants you to slash her," a servant translated for her.
He immediately dropped it and shook his head, but that got him a slap in the face from Larra.
"You do not refuse her command. Hit her," the servant urged.
"No," Viserys knew instantly that her "request" was wrong.
"If you do not, she will make sure that you don't eat for a week. And what she'll do to this slave will be far worse compared to what she has in mind for you already."
"Why are you doing this?" Viserys was near hysterical as he shrieked.
"Men and women have their lusts. Breeding bastards, inflicting pain, and more. For those in power, it is our due and no one should stop our pleasure," Larra answered through her servant.
"I want my kepa and muña!" Viserys had enough.
"You will not see them until you do this. If you do not, you will not see them again," the servant translated for Larra.
At the mention of food and his parents, Viserys reluctantly picked up the whip and shook before he gave her a few soft strikes. The slave only let out soft groans before Larra put a dagger against his throat and yelled at him.
"She said strike her, so strike her!"
Viserys bit down on his teeth before he put his all through the whip, and this time, the slave was screaming. Her screams… it pierced his eardrums and it echoed off the walls. Moreover, he saw blood come out and after a few swings, he couldn't do it anymore.
"She didn't say you were finished," the servant hissed. But upon seeing that Viserys was too frozen to do anything, she pushed him to the floor and starting savagely whipping the slave. After he began to see the flesh torn and the bones starting to show, he fainted and his vision became black.
A few hours later, Viserys woke up and saw that the slave was not there, the floor was cleaned, and the bed had fresh sheets. Feeling someone next to him, he was afraid to see Larra there. She didn't have her servant and she was just eyeing him.
Sitting up cautiously, Viserys just stared back at her while pulling his knees to his chest. Suddenly, Larra pulled the straps of her nightgown from her shoulders and soon exposed her breasts and the rest of her nude form to his eyes. Inching closer to Viserys, he tried to retreat but she held onto him. She then said something in the Lysene Valyrian, which he didn't understand well, before pulling his hand and placing on her breast.
Urging him to squeeze it, Viserys was surprised to feel how soft it was and that it caused Larra to moan. When she brought his other hand to her breast, he was less hesitant and started to… like how it feels.
Slowly and gently, she got him on his back and rubbed her clit against his core, while Viserys couldn't get his eyes away from Larra's. And she was in the process of getting her hands inside of his gown. What is this I'm feeling? he could only think.
But suddenly, the doors opened and some men entered, men Viserys hadn't seen before when he turned his head. However, Larra screamed and bunched some sheets against her exposed chest while the men pushed her away and restrained.
A bearded man with raven black hair and grey eyes approached Viserys' bed. "Are you Prince Viserys?" He nodded. "My name is Jon Flint, Your Grace. I work for your mother. I'm here to take you home."
Upon hearing the familiar address back home, Viserys eagerly jumped into Jon Flint's arms and held him tightly while pushing his face against his neck. He ignored the sounds of metal clanging against each other, the shouts of desperation as Jon Flint and his men ran back outside of the palace and into the carts waiting for them, the bumpiness of the ride to their ship, and more screaming.
Only until he was set upon a bunk by Jon Flint did he ask, "Am I going home now, truly?"
"Yes, Your Grace," Jon Flint bowed his head. "Your mother the Queen misses you. She wants you home."
"Are the bad people who want to hurt her gone?" Viserys asked.
"Yes. The war has been won. Your mother is now the undisputed Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
Viserys didn't know what "undisputed" meant, but he sensed that it sounded good. "Thank you, Jon Flint. May I go to sleep now?"
"Of course, Your Grace. In fact, just rest here until we're back in King's Landing. We still have a long way to go."
After all that he had seen, Viserys was ready to never leave his family's side again. I get to see Aegon, Baela, Rhaena, Jacky, Luke, Joffrey, all of them again, maybe even the baby, Viserys was giddy. And thus, all of his thoughts were focused on home as the ship sailed back to Westeros.
A/N: Myles Hightower negotiating with the Lysenes showed how intertwined the anti-Targaryen forces are.
And thus, we also have the rescue of Prince Viserys from captivity, instead of the Lysenes getting a ransom and Viserys marrying Larra Rogare.
For those might get triggered with what Larra was doing to Viserys, there was a point to that. I do not believe for a moment that Viserys' had consensual relations with Larra Rogare, as he was a boy at the time, so this is how I think Larra was able to get her hands onto him. Fortunately for Viserys, he was able to get out before she did real damage. And that is not really talked about, female-on-male abuse due to issues of masculinity (I apologize to readers and my heart goes out to those who experienced this, and I hope that this was not offensive).