A/N: Started to student teach in my area (really tedious stuff) and I am also exploring alternate paths, so been busy. But now, here is the update.
Stannis ran through the corridors of Storm's End, through the inner citadel of what was left of the home he had grown up. He cursed his brother Robert for dying and thus allowing the lions to come. He cursed his brother Renly for making things more difficult for him and for wasting precious time trying to become king. He lastly cursed himself, for he had failed to account for the growing ruthlessness of the enemy now that there was another usurper on the Iron Throne.
By some miracle, the enemy had managed to penetrate his defenses on the north and south of Storm's End. Thousands of ships with the Redwyne sigil on their sail landed troops on the shores and bypassed the static front lines around the kingswood, the Dornish Marches, and the Red Mountains. Chaos spread among Storm's End, as their best troops were all on the boundaries of the stormlands and not once had they considered that their shores, with their natural cliffs and sharp rocks protruding from the surface of the water, could have been penetrated.
"What happened?" Stannis yelled to Ser Lomas Estermont. In the days after Ser Davos Seaworth left to protect Shireen, he leaned upon the head of the lesser branch of the Estermonts. While the post of the Hand of the King remained officially in the hands of Ser Davos, Ser Lomas unofficially assumed the role while he was also the unofficial master-of-ships.
"Your Grace, I was not aware that the Redwynes had managed to get past our defense. All of the scouts along our shores have reported that the next landing would be onto Tarth," Ser Lomas stammered.
"You've been fooled, Ser Lomas." Melisandre stepped forward. "Whatever reports you received from your scouts have misled you into devoting your attention to one area while the enemy wanted to attack another. The only reason behind this is that Tywin Lannister has managed to turn your scouts agains you."
"Impossible."
"It is not." Stannis was struck that even Ser Lomas was not aware of what Tywin Lannister was capable of. "And now we have the pay for your inattention." He turned to Lord Swann. "How many men can we muster at such short notice?"
"Only one thousand and five hundred men, all of them infantry," the head of House Swann answered. "But Your Grace, that will not be enough against twenty thousand Reachmen."
"Storm's End has held out against Reachmen before. We can do it again," Stannis said with finality. "Assemble the men."
"Your Grace, I strongly recommend that we withdraw from Storm's End," Ser Lomas suggested. "We will not last long against such overwhelming numbers and the nearest force that can help us is more than a week away, but that will also compromise our front lines."
"No," Stannis said vehemently. "This is our home. Only we can defend it."
"Your Grace, you are our king and the only leader we will follow into the depths," Ser Lomas begged him. "I beseech you, you must leave this place."
"With one thousand and five hundred men, we can hold out against the Reachmen. No one has taken Storm's End before, so we have much of the advantages in our hands." Stannis was adamant. "We shall hold. And that is all that I will say on the matter."
"But Your Grace—"
"I suggest that you make yourself useful, Ser Lomas. My patience can only go so far, even more so after your folly." Ser Lomas dipped his head in fear before he left the main room.
Stannis looked at Lord Swann. While he too doubted the defense of Storm's End, he was wise enough to not dissent. "Very well, Your Grace," Lord Swann affirmed., controlling his frustrations. "I shall get the men ready and we shall prepare for a siege."
But while Stannis expected a long siege after the Reachmen appeared before his doorstep, he was confused as to why they seemed confident. Even though arrogance was one of the defining traits of Reachmen after he saw it firsthand when Mace Tyrell sieged the castle, they did not even bother to bring siege engines.
Either the Reachmen have not changed a bit, or they have something else up their sleeve. Stannis was inclined towards the former, for he did not consider Reachmen save for the Tarlys and the Peakes worth their salt.
"Your Grace!" One of the bannermen upon the walls ran up to him. "One of the guards tried to open the gate."
"What? How dare he!" Stannis bellowed. "Why?"
"That is the thing, Your Grace. The guard was not… himself."
"What do you mean?" Stannis detected his dread.
"He… I pulled at his face and it came off. There was another man underneath."
Stannis gulped and that caused him to look around. As far as he could tell, there was only one group of people that was capable of changing faces. Of course, Tywin is not above contracting the Faceless Men.
"Double the guard on the gate and begin searching each man," Stannis commanded him. "Even those in our household. If you find another mask, kill him."
"Yes, Your Grace," the guard complied before running off to carry out his orders.
However, panic ensued amongst the guards, as they feared the Faceless Men as well.
"Courage, men! Find your courage!" Stannis yelled.
"Your Grace! Come here!" another guard yelled.
Walking down to the gatehouse to see what was happening, Stannis was shocked when instead of the guard being doubled, there were two guards fighting off a dozen more while another was working to open the gate.
"Hold it! What are you doing?!" Stannis pointed his finger at them.
One of the guards, his eyes twitching to Stannis, opened his mouth. "What do we say to the God of Death?"
"Not today!" the other two guards shouted before they charged towards Stannis' men. They put up quite a fight, with their spears being made into spiked staffs, while the guard on the gate finally managed to open the gates. Already, the Reach cavalry charged at it and there was no way to close it until at least some of them were able to break into Storm's End.
"Form up! Form up!" Stannis commanded, seeing the danger.
Eventually, the guards who betrayed him were killed, but not before at least a hundred Reach horsemen charged into the courtyard of Storm's End. They smashed into the men who rose their pikes at them, the latter not having enough time to set up a proper formation.
More Reachmen entered the courtyard through the open gate and they started to overwhelm the garrison. Acting quickly, Stannis made his way into the keep and the few dozen men who had managed to stay alive followed him before slamming the doors shut and barricading it.
As the commotion outside continued, with the sound of his men dying while more were trying to keep the doors of the main keep closed, Stannis readied himself in his solar.
In this room was where many a feast occurred while Steffon Baratheon was alive, before he was sent on his ill-fated journey for the Mad King. It was large with very little cover, and Stannis knew that even with the tables and the many doors that led to the other parts of the castle, there was no cover for them and once the enemy broke through the doors, they would be overwhelmed.
Stannis looked at the few remaining men who were inside the keep. All of them were scared, but all of them were still willing to die for their king, as they did during the Battle on the Blackwater Bay. Strangely, no longer did he see them as men following orders, but brothers who remained by his side. And they were not going anywhere.
"To the last, men," he whispered, and the other men of House Baratheon nodded.
Stannis felt every muscle in his body tense, an all too familiar feeling, as he prepared for his death. He then saw Melisandre, who was directing others to barricade the doors and then the servants to the halls.
"Lady Melisandre," he called out to her. "Take my queen to safety. My daughter needs her mother."
"But King Stannis, you are asking me to leave you," the red woman exclaimed.
"You have done enough for me. Now, I ask you for a final time. Take the mother of my daughter away from this place. Shireen cannot be alone."
"She is not alone, King Stannis," Melisandre stated.
"Just do it!"
Melisandre blinked once before nodding solemnly. "Good luck. May the Lord of Light bless you."
With Melisandre carrying out his final command, Stannis prepared himself for the last stand.
But suddenly, he saw Selyse enter the main hall. She was looking at Stannis and walking to him calmly.
"What is the meaning of this?" Stannis asked, his voice filled with righteous indignation. "I told Melisandre to send you away—"
Selyse, or rather someone looking like her, threw a knife and struck him in the chest, his mouth being forced open while he fell backwards. Stannis tasted blood in his mouth.
"The king!" the guard yelped. While Stannis could not see, he heard the men fighting each other, causing horror to build in his mind as he realized that his household had been infiltrated. Straining his neck and eyes for a glimpse, he saw servants and stable boys charge into the main hall, fighting and killing his guards while they were about to open the door.
Taking the helm of the knife that had managed to land in his chest, Stannis, with all of his great might, pulled it out of him. Not wanting to die as another lain corpse, he moved onto his belly and began to crawl to a nearby sword. However, someone approached him and dug another knife digging deep into Stannis' back, severing the spine.
Feeling his body being put back on his back, he saw Selyse stand over him, a malevolent grin forming across her face.
"Why?" Stannis could only manage.
"The Many-Faced God requires a sacrifice, and you are demanded to become that," Selyse whispered while taking out another knife and driving it in between his ribs.
"Who are you? You are not my wife."
Selyse scoffed, but she obliged him. Grabbing something from the bottom of her neck, Stannis could watch in shock as Selyse's face was ripped off and underneath it was another woman. She had light hair and blue eyes, with her sick smile still remaining on her face.
"What have you done with my queen, my wife?" Stannis asked while his blood began to make him choke.
"I killed her," the woman told him. "Why do you think I have her face? Although I do admit that taking it from her was rather difficult."
Stannis wanted nothing more than to fight and choke the audacious assassin, but he could not move.
"Was it… painless?" Stannis struggled.
The woman's smile became more crooked. "By the time that I was done with her, she was begging me to be killed. Although I am saddened that your child was not here. That would have been interesting, the things that I would have had her seen and then feel."
Stannis gritted his teeth, but he could not raise his arms and he could not move his head, while he started to see his vision become blurry.
"I can see that you are in much pain." The woman pulled out her knives, causing a grunt to leave Stannis' mouth. "Allow me to take it from you."
Picking up an axe, she was about to raise it at Stannis' neck before one of the guards, or rather one of her partners, stopped her. "That is not the way for us."
"The Many-Faced God is very particular this time, and we have to show proof of our mark," the woman told him. The guard stepped away, not arguing with her anymore.
Stannis' breathing became shallow and he could barely see in front of his nose, but his last thoughts were of Shireen and he prayed to the Lord of Light to protect her before the axe fell on his neck.
Sansa was stunned when she heard of the latest news from both King's Landing and from Storm's End. Out of all of the news that she had expected to hear from south of the Neck, she had not expected to hear developments that both made her feel glee and dread at the same time.
"And this is true?" she asked Lord Baelish.
"It is, my lady," Baelish affirmed. "It is very good news."
"But we must be careful. They might focus their attentions now on us," Harold Hardyng stated.
The first response that Sansa had when she heard about Joffrey's death, the official cause being that he was deposed by the Small Council and executed for high treason against the Seven Kingdoms, was satisfaction. Her father's death remained as clear as day to her, with Joffrey so eagerly wanting his head taken while Ilyn Payne held Truth, the recently-discovered sword of the Rogare family, in his hands, no doubt having come to Westeros with Larra Rogare over a century ago. At least Father was smart enough to keep Ice in Winterfell. It greatly annoyed her when she saw Joffrey's ego get fed when he was given the reforged sword from House Rogare, which he named Willow's Wail as part of his wedding gift, even though he did not use it at all. And after Joffrey proved to be his father's son by whoring around, Tywin conveniently gave the sword to Jaime Lannister for his use. Well… House Lannister has a Valyrian steel sword after all.
However, the next piece of news she got from the south was more troubling. It did not take long for word to spread that Stannis Baratheon had been killed, his head displayed over the gates of Storm's End. With probably the most serious contender for the Iron Throne in Westeros gone, there seemed to be nothing to stop the lords from swearing their allegiance to the new queen, Myrcella of House Baratheon. The gods help her. She will need them, she thought as she got to know her. While she had nothing against Myrcella, she knew better than anyone that she was not going to rule as a queen would and therefore would become a pawn for Tywin Lannister and his ilk.
And there was to be no peace, especially for the north. While she had a feeling that most of the houses in the south would accept Myrcella, the North and the Vale were in open defiance of the Iron Throne because families from both kingdoms were supporting a Stark. While the Frey-led riverlander bannermen could be easily deal with, the Freys would definitely obtain Lannister reinforcements and that would make her struggle for Winterfell very complicated. I might have numbers, but there is only so much that I will be able to do if I have to contend with Ramsay Bolton, the Freys and the Lannisters, and the wildlings at the same time.
However, there was to be some positive thoughts arising from it all. The Freys could only send a limited number of men against them courtesy of the Blackfish, so the few thousand men from the Twins would be trapped in Moat Cailin. And if Tywin Lannister proves heavy-handed in his punishments against the stormlords, they would simply find one with Baratheon blood to rally around. That was very likely, as Shireen Baratheon had not been found and if she was still alive, the stormlords would continue to resist. If Lord Tywin puts Storm's End in the hands of a house that turned coat, he would also lose control over the stormlands.
And that was not the most important part. Lord Baelish's little birds proved their potency, as they all told him of the realities facing the Red Keep.
"While it is true that we have to worry about a Lannister army support the Freys against us, they are not going to be able to," Lord Baelish told her supporters. "The Lannisters are in deep debt."
"Is that not a given when it comes to war?" Lord Manderly inquired.
"How about their debt being at nine million golden dragons?" Lord Baelish pointed out, causing murmurs amongst the Valemen and the loyal northmen. "What is even more important is that the Iron Bank is refusing to grant an additional extension on their loans, meaning that they will have to start paying back their debt very soon. Currently, they do not have the means to do that because tax collecting has practically ceased and there are little reserves of food as most of the Lannisters' stores were sent to support their bannermen against the stormlords. By this day five moons from now, the Iron Bank will call on their debts. If the Lannisters' popularity is at an all-time low, imagine how hated they will become by then."
No matter his untrustworthy character, Sansa and the others could not dispute Lord Baelish's authority in that matter since he was Master of Coin. And what they heard from his mouth was indeed critical information, since that meant they had time.
"So we don't have to worry about those lion shits and coming after us?" Lady Flint asked.
"We do not, my lady. As far as I can see, the problems facing us in the North is hardly their concern. Even someone of Lord Tywin's reputation has limits to what they can do and he has to focus on securing the coronation and reign for Myrcella Baratheon."
Everyone in the hall was aware that the small council's official words on Joffrey's death were lies, and that added to why they could not trust the lions of Casterly Rock since Tywin Lannister killed his own grandson. He would have killed Tyrion, if his name was not Lannister. Joffrey… he did not count in the end.
"But we also have another pressing matter to address, what has been going on across the narrow sea," Lord Reed spoke. "It appears that the rumors are true, that the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark has come forward."
Sansa was stunned by those rumors. What was even more disturbing was how much she could not deny. Daeron Targaryen… Jon Snow… Father, why did you lie to us?
That was a sentiment shared by the rest of the loyal northern houses, who could not believe that the reason for the northmen fighting for Robert Baratheon was false and that Lyanna Stark, their beloved woman of winter roses, had not been kidnapped.
"If it was from any other man, Lord Reed, I would have called him a liar. But you were there at the Tower of Joy with Lord Eddard," Lady Flint spoke. "But I ask, and I believe I speak for all of the northmen here, in that is it true that Eddard Stark hid the last male heir of House Targaryen in his household?"
Lord Reed sighed. "There was no other way. The boy you all know as Jon Snow was all that was left of Lady Lyanna and Robert would have killed him both for his heritage and for him being evidence of Lyanna's affections for someone else."
"So, what does it matter?" The Lynderly knight stood up. "That man is far away from here. Even if he does manage to come here with his army and dragons, he will find a Westeros hostile to a Targaryen coming back to rule us."
"And do not forget, he has both Daenerys Targaryen and Rhaenys Targaryen with him," Harold Hardyng added.
"He might be the son of Lyanna Stark, but how is he capable of ruling over us? I fought for Robb Stark, his cousin, and he was incapable of ruling over us. Why should we concern ourselves with a distant threat?"
Sansa had to control herself at how Lord Manderly disparaged Robb.
"But he will come back. That is a fact," Lord Hornwood stated. "Judge me if you will, but the Lannisters will never accept Lady Sansa at Winterfell. Perhaps if the dragon prince supports Sansa to rule over us…"
Sansa was not so confident, but she had to hide it. "If the dragon prince is indeed Jon Snow, the one that I grew up with, then I am sure that he will support me. But I ask that all of us focus on the matters of now rather than in the future. We have enough burdens on our shoulders, do we not?"
The lords agreed. After the meeting was adjourned, Sansa walked with Harold Hardyng in private, with Lord Baelish to continue administrating in her absence.
"It must distress you, about Jon Snow being the last male heir of House Targaryen," Harold said.
"It does, Ser Harold," she admitted. "But I feel that will not be a concern for me. I grew up with him and I know how he is."
"But will that be enough? When you grew up with him, he was a Stark bastard. And now, he is the inheritor of a great Valyrian legacy."
"As I said, Ser Harold, I can deal with him." Deep down, she was concerned, for she did fear that the dragon prince might seek some retribution for how she ignored him and did nothing to stop her mother's abuses against him. Surely, he knows how to forgive.
With the knowledge of Jon Snow being the dragon prince a strong possibility. It made her feel all the more distressed, for her mother had abused him for nothing at all. While she did not know the truth at the time and before she died, it still made Sansa feel all the more regret because she did not try to be the family that he needed, unlike the others. And it made her feel all the more ashamed of all the times she scolded Arya, for her warm treatment of Jon was part of why they did not get along as that went against her mother. If I could take back all the words that I said to you, Arya, about Jon…
And she began to doubt whether she knew Jon Snow at all. While she was hopeful that he was still the good boy that she saw and that he would show her forgiveness if she got on her knees and begged, she was frightened about meeting both Daenerys and Rhaenys Targaryen. It was clear that he would have told them both of what he had endured and unlike him, they would not be so open to mercy. Especially those two, since my father was partly responsible for them becoming exiles.
It was becoming much for her, but she could not shake what she felt at the moment regarding Jon Snow.
"Lady Sansa, I have been meaning to ask you. When shall we get married?"
Sansa was surprised. With all of the matters she attended to while in White Harbor, she had not considered the final date of her wedding. "After we enter the gates of Winterfell will we marry," she promised in the hopes of appeasing him.
"I do hope it is soon, because the Valemen that came with us are only here because of me. We should not leave anything unsecured."
"I agree."
They were walking the godswood and found themselves under the weirwood branches. "Lady Sansa, I don't know if you remember," Harold began talking. "But you are beautiful and you are strong, both of which I admire in a betrothed."
"Thank you, Ser Harold."
"I know that our relationship is for political reasons, but I do hope that we can become something more." He gently grabbed ahold of her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "We both suffered unhappiness, so maybe we could be find happiness in each other."
In other times, she would have been touched. However, she knew better than to fall for a man's words because of Joffrey. On the other hand, she had to give him no cause to feel rejected.
"I hope that in time, we will find that happiness."
Harold smiled softly. "Perhaps we can start now?"
Sansa raised her eyebrows and tensed. "How… do you propose that?"
Harold slowly put his face closer to Sansa's while closing his eyes. For the sake of keeping him unoffended, Sansa kept still before their lips touched. She did not feel anything powerful or enticing from his kiss, but it was clear that Harold did and he pulled her closer with his arms.
To keep him from noticing, Sansa closed her eyes as well, but she kept her mind on who she wanted from a husband. He needs to be someone strong, someone devoted, someone humble, and can protect me while keeping me safe. I'm sorry, Ser Harold, but you are not that.
Harold proved infidelity before, so she could not find the man she wanted in Harold. That was when she had to pray silently to the old gods and to her parents.
I made the mistake of asking too much. I wanted to marry a prince, become like the women I grew up reading about like Jonquil, but now… all I want is someone who will be there for me always and will never hurt me. Please… help him appear.
But Sansa failed to notice Lord Baelish looking upon them both from afar. She had a feeling that she was being watched, but she had to keep up appearances so as to keep the Valemen on her side. Is this to be my fate, putting on a false face while my heart is torn apart slowly?
Daenerys kept her composure as she looked upon Quentyn Martell, the son of Prince Doran. Yezzan zo Qaggaz proved quite useful, as he was able to track down the oldest son of the Martell family in Tollos. According to him, he was trying to escape the Slaver's Bay once he got word that the Blackfyre was dead, but Qaggaz's agents found him and delivered him in chains.
Quentyn was in between Eraz and Paenymion, both of whom were bound. Varys was also there alongside Malaquo Maegyr and Harry Strickland, with Varys having a distant look in his eyes.
"Please, merciful queen. I plead for mercy," Quentyn begged on his knees.
"Hush!" Rhaenys barked. "When you speak to us, you will address all of us, not just one."
"Please, dear cousin. You must believe me when I say that I and my father, your uncle, did not know that the one calling himself Aegon was really a Blackfyre."
"Cousin?" Rhaenys laughed. "You presume a blood relationship between us, when I never met you before in my life?"
"Peace, dear niece." Daenerys put her hand on hers. It was becoming a common recurrence, with Rhaenys being angry and Daenerys having to calm her down. Well, Daeron is doing his part as well to keep her from getting to enraged, she thought.
"Prince Quentyn, it is clear that you are not smart enough to pull off a scheme like what your father did and you were inconsequential in the outcome of the battle," Jon spoke, making the youngest son of Doran Martell shift in insult. "But the fact remains that you are a representative of House Martell. And the fact that your family was willing to support a Blackfyre, even if it was unintentional, does raise some concerns."
"Please, Your Grace." Quentyn was wise to use the correct address. "I swear on my family and may my father lose his arms, we would not have supported him if we knew the truth."
"Oh, we actually believe you. Varys promised your family many things, all of which were built on empty grounds." Daenerys felt nothing but satisfaction as she saw the once deadly viper in King's Landing become silent, his mind scarred from seeing his nephew burned. "That is why we will not kill you, for that will cause more problems than we want."
"Thank you. Thank you so much, Your Graces," Quentyn exclaimed in relief.
"But instead, you will be a prisoner until the true extent of your father's intercourse with Varys will be revealed," Daenerys added. "You will be kept under lock and key and any attempts to try to escape will only prove to us on your father's treachery."
"And do not claim any closeness between us," Rhaenys snapped. "You… are nobody to me. None of those people, those strangers, in Sunspear mean anything to me. If you do that, I will gladly feed you to Rhaegel right then."
Quentyn nodded fearfully. However, Daenerys shared a look of worry with Daeron, who was also concerned that Rhaenys was starting to become cold and heartless.
Daenerys turned her attention to Varys, Eraz, Paenymion. "Eraz and Paenymion, the both of you and all other slave masters are to be sentenced to death. But instead of mercy by fire, I will turn you over to the people you kept in chains. They will judge on the manner of your death, just like the other times you ruled over their fates."
"Please, mercy," both of them cried out, only for the guards to hit them in the back and cry out in pain.
"No mercy for you, not after what you almost did. Guards." While the masters struggled against the grasps of the men, they were dragged out of the room, no doubt to be thrown in the crowds awaiting them outside. She had no pity for them and it would not have bothered her much if they tore their bodies to pieces.
"Harry Strickland, you are a sellsword. Therefore, I can only assume that you only fought as hard as you did if it meant obtaining your payment, correct?" Daeron asked him, to which Harry Strickland nodded eagerly. "While that does not change the status of your men as prisoners, we are prepared to offer you and your men mercy provided that we come to satisfaction."
"Satisfaction, Your Grace?"
"I assume that with your clients dead, the Golden Company is now open for hiring?" Daenerys asked, which surprised Harry Strickland. "We shall discuss later on the terms. Guards, take him to his rooms."
While the Golden Company captain-general was escorted out, still stunned by his good fortune, that left Varys and Malaquo.
"The both of you are not stupid enough to understand what is to become of you," Daenerys wasted no time. "Varys, you planned this for over twenty years and you are the last of the Blackfyres, so you must die."
Varys shook his head while his eyes were closed. "I did what you would have done, woman. It was my family's time to take our place in the sun, but for the last time, we have failed. I care not what happens next."
"That is a great way to think about it," Jon sneered.
"But rest assured, Malaquo," Daenerys turned to the leader of the tigers. "You will not be killed, yet. The tigers have to know that there are consequences to their actions. It is time that the elephants run things in Volantis, especially if Jaenyra Vhassar will be the driving force behind them."
"I did what was best for Volantis, and I cannot say anything more on my conduct. But you can be sure, that the world you are trying to build will fall and the old ways will come back. People do not know what to do with freedom, so they will eat each other."
"Perhaps," Daenerys admitted. "But you never tried, while I am. And it is that sort of thinking that proves that this world needs change, for the old ways can only remain for so long."
"In any case, Your Graces," Malaquo spit on the last words. "I wish you good fortune in the wars to come."
Daenerys was not angered by the Maegyr's insolence. Rather, she chuckled, as she expected nothing less. "Take him away. And keep him under heavy chains in lock and key."
The guards complied, leaving the three of them alone in the room.
"Well… that is over with," Rhaenys stated with boredom. "When do we go back to Westeros?"
"First, we need to deal with Volantis. After the actions of the tigers, we cannot leave that city alone. They have to answer for their actions."
"But we will not burn it," Daenerys told them both. "There are many slaves there, and if what that knight told us was true, they will need our help."
It was interesting to hear the situation from the one called Ser Davos Seaworth as he was brought before them. They were able to obtain more details about the situation in Westeros while they found another base for them to use on the way there.
"I don't care much about them, as long as we finally get our revenge," Rhaenys emphasized.
"We will, dear sister. Worry not," Jon assured her. "The people that made us like this… they will get their just punishments."
Rhaenys smiled gratefully at her brother before walking over and kissing the top of his head, surprising both him and Daenerys. "Perhaps after you two… do what you do to celebrate our victory, we should spare some more?"
Jon and Daenerys glanced at each other, slightly embarrassed. "You mean—"
"Yes, yes. I heard the details from down the hall," Rhaenys cracked. "But Daeron, I hear the more you sweat, the less you bleed. So right after you… mount our aunt, come to the practice yard."
Jon smiled in amusement before nodding. "As you wish, dear sister."
Giving them one more knowing look, she left them alone in the room before they proceeded to their private chambers.
They heard the sounds of celebrations from outside the main palace of Yunkai, with music playing, rockets bursting into many colors, and horns blaring. The war was over for the freedmen, and generations could look forward to living their lives in freedom. An ambition that only happened because of the man next to her.
He has already done much for me, and he has helped accomplish this.
As soon as the doors closed, she thought of the ways she could mount him, as Rhaenys so eloquently put it. I need that. I need to see him roar like a dragonwolf would.
But she didn't have to wait. In purposeful strides, he crossed the room and pulled her against him with desperate grasping hands before his hungry mouth found hers.
Letting her breath, Daenerys gave a happy laugh as his arms gathered her up, lifting her feet from the floor. Her lips only left his to get his shirt over his head. It landed softly on the floor, before he picked her up. Her breath caught at the heat in his eyes as he carried her the short distance to their bed and gently laid her upon it before he joined her, pressing his body along hers, wrapping himself around her.
It felt as if he were trying to absorb her into his very soul and every inch of her throbbed with love and want for him to the point hot tears pricked behind her eyes. She held tight to him, rubbing his back, running her fingers through his silky curls as his breathing began to calm.
Then his soft lips and scratchy beard mouthed at her neck, taking slow kisses of her sensitive skin, his warm breath sending a shiver through her. "Gods, dear aunt, you are so soft," he whispered.
She laughed again, her heart overfull hearing him declare it in such a way. She urged him out of hiding, cupping his sweet face in her hands as she smiled up at him. "Oh, my. Where has this been the whole time?"
His smile was the dearest thing she had seen. He turned into her hand and kissed her palm before gazing down at her again. He continued his kisses, over her cheek, up to her ear, then down her neck. She hummed in happiness while his fingers began working the buttons of her gown, which she wore because she loved his stare upon wherever her skin and body were exposed. She helped him by moving out of it, leaving her bare before his feasting eyes.
His hands ran slowly up her legs, his fingers touching her softly. Watching him, the fire in his eyes, those full lips hungry for more, the feel of his eager hands against her body. She felt the fire emerge from her core, something that she never felt for Daario. Her eyes fluttered closed while she felt her heart race and her breath quicken.
"If only we did not have to wear garments. I could stare upon you all day."
"You better," she shot back jokingly. "But after we get the throne back… who knows how much free time we will have?"
His lips latched onto the hardened peak of her breast and her groans turned to whimpers, the little touches and slides of his tongue and teeth causing her to press harder against his fingers, wanting more, needing it.
"Jon." She had grown comfortable saying the name he grew up with.
He grunted, moving to take her other nipple with this mouth. The tender touch of his fingers, the heat of his clever tongue, the scrape and drag of his short beard against her skin had her shifting fast beneath him. She needed more but wanted to prolong her blissful pain she felt.
Her fingers traced up his spine then into his raven black hair, dancing through them as his kisses moved lower, over her ribcage and belly, then lower. He placed one to each side of her hips, down to between her thighs, and then beneath it. She could only grow more excited, as he was going to do the thing that she liked very much. Not even Daario can beat him with his tongue.
Jon only growled as she imagined a direwolf might and drank from her, not ceasing. It took all she had to keep still against his sucking.
He groaned as he spread her open with his thumbs and traced his tongue around her entrance, showing that he too liked this part very much. Her head dropped back as he continued to tease with his moistness, her breathing hitched. She rolled her hips against his mouth, wanting more. A strong arm came across her hips, pinning her to the bed, then a finger joined his tongue, tracing along her clit before it slipped inside, which only added to the waves of ecstasy that she was experiencing.
But before she went over the edge, she grabbed his shoulders and used all of her strength to pull him, his grey eyes staring into her violent ones. While he was distracted, Daenerys moved his length into her.
"Come on, then. Push into me," she commanded.
Her wish was granted, and he moved furiously into her. Every slide of his cock inside her was like the tightening of a bowstring, stretching back until all that was left was for her to be released. Seeing him strain, she wrapped her legs around him, beckoning him onwards. He then got her up and she was sitting on him while he continued his eager movements into her.
"Dany... so close... so close…" he groaned.
"Yes," she gasped, lowering her mouth to take his in a heated kiss. "Give me a child. I need your seed."
Finally, his rhythm became slower, his body seizing beneath hers as his cock filled her with his seed. She kissed his cheeks, alongside the beard, his chin, then to his lips as his breathing settled and he laid spent and peaceful beneath her. She loved the feel of his fingers moving along her spine, his lips leaving soft kisses across her face, but more the feel of him still inside her.
"I hope I conceived tonight. We need babies to spoil," Daenerys whispered to him as they settled into their bed.
"I hope that I can be someone like my father, who would have been great had he not died."
"You will be." She kissed him tenderly. "Just know that I want more than one child. I want to keep conceiving and I want to carry many in my belly for as much as possible."
"How many?"
"As much as possible," she repeated.
"It seems that we have much work to do."
Daenerys chortled. "We do. I do hope that this moment was not your best effort, for I expect more."
Arya was with Namhee, Seonjoo, Renxi, and Masaku as they all ate with Gendry and Ser Davos Seaworth. They were eating from the rice rations brought with the Jade Company's fleet along with the meat that were procured from the Slaver's Bay. Well, what's left of it.
As a thanks to the all of those who helped secure the final victory for the Targaryens in the Slaver's Bay, the dragons allowed the troops, the freedmen, and other smallfolk alike to drink wine and eat meat as much as they wanted to. Both were in plentiful supply, after they plundered the storages that the Volantene tigers brought with them. And with Quentyn Martell being captured, everyone was assured that the path back to Westeros was practically open. All we have to do now is to march through Volantis and we have come home.
"Shireen is back in Volantis, Ser Davos?" While he had only caught a few glimpses of Shireen while he was a captive in Dragonstone, he became concerned about her safety as she was among the few family he had left.
"Aye. She's safe," Ser Davos answered while stuffing some beef in his mouth. "She is under the care of a friendly figure in Volantis, a member of the Elephants, and she is awaiting my return."
"You think that the dragons will give you the weapons you need to help support the slaves rising up there?" Gendry asked.
"I understand that nothing is free, so I have to use the gold that Lady Jaenyra gave to me to buy them. What is of interest are those sticks that seem to blow smoke and release iron balls."
"The tanegashima?" Gendry gave him the name.
"Is that what they are called?" Ser Davos asked curiously.
"You can say firearms."
"Firearms… makes sense." Ser Davos sipped his wine before sighing in delight. "By the Seven, that tastes good. Especially after that shit starved me and my crew."
"You cannot blame that officer for how he behaved," Arya told him. "After all, he didn't know you and you came from Volantis."
"But does that mean that he can deprive me of food and water for four days?" Ser Davos grumbled.
"The most important thing is that you and your men are here, and I promised you a warm meal, didn't I?" Gendry interjected.
"I was thinking of a warm meal between the two of us. I didn't expect to see Arya Stark and her… Yi-Tish friends."
Now that Arya could observe closely, Ser Davos was making a mess out of his food while Gendry, herself, and her friends from the Jade Order were more dignified. Her friends looked at Ser Davos with slight disdain, clear from their condescending eyes while they ate their rice in small amounts.
"Is this what we have to face in Westeros? The messiness of these barbarians?" Namhee spoke to the group in guanhua.
"They do not emphasize cleanliness as much as we do," Masaku answered. "I can already feel that the air there will be more foul than I would prefer."
Arya knew that there was nothing that she could do to correct their beliefs, but she also did not want to because they were her friends. If they visit Winterfell, they might think differently.
"How does this compare to the bowl of brown?" Ser Davos asked Gendry regarding the meat and rice, although that was clearly rhetorical.
"I am eating decent food, Ser Davos. I never wish to think about that ever again," Gendry shook his head while chuckling.
"Excuse me. What is… bowl of brown?" Namhee attempted her best pronunciation of the common tongue.
Ser Davos and Gendry glanced at each other, confused. "Well," Gendry began to say. "Both he and I grew up in Flea Bottom, the poorest area of King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Uh-huh," Namhee let out, as she knew the geography.
"Bowls of brown are like gruel, in that they are just your basic stew, and that is putting it kindly," Gendry explained. "When there is meat from pigeons available, we put that. If there are no pigeons, we put rats or other things that have some flesh on them."
Namhee groaned in disgust, as did Arya's friends. "At least these barbarians don't have any shame."
"We were poor, Lady Namhee. What would you do if you were hungry and starving?" Gendry's guanhua had greatly improved.
Namhee and Gendry glared at one another, while the rest felt the tension in the air. Arya acted quickly.
"Perhaps all of us can look forward to seeing Winterfell, when we return there."
"What is Winterfell like?" Seonjoo asked eagerly.
"Beautiful." She talked about the memories she had with the family, including Jon, as she ran around the courtyard, ran in the wolfswood, and explored Winter Town. She said that the scenery and the godswood was breathtaking, and that the hot springs underneath the castle provided warmth that one could only envy in the North.
"You appreciate the warmth you can get when you are in the North," Arya said finally and her friends looked very happy to visit such a place, which also included Gendry.
Ser Davos was confused by the whole exchange, as all of the words besides the last sentence was spoken in guanhua. Gendry sensed that changed topics again.
"You believe Stannis is still alive, even after all this time?" Gendry asked.
"He is a tough man, he is. I hope to see him once more," Ser Davos said before stuffing some rice with his hands into his mouth.
With the night becoming late and the others feeling drowsy from the wine, Arya looked at Gendry with desirous intentions. Much has happened since they arrived and they grew closer to each other, to the point where they kissed abord the ship. And she knew that Gendry felt the same way.
She could not wait anymore. After entertaining Gendry in that teahouse, she felt all sorts of affections form for him. And while Gendry was more hesitant in expressing his own, she knew it was there and that was why she wanted to stay close to him and be around him whenever she could. Being on the ship to the Slaver's Bay allowed them much time to bond and then grow deeper in their love for each other.
What made her confident was when Gendry said to her on the ship, "I cannot imagine anyone else for me, Arya. I heard someone say that love is determined by thin more than thick, and we have been through thin more times than I can count. But through that, I saw the real you and I know that I will never find another like you."
Despite Gendry being a bastard, Arya was happy that he felt that way. "And I will never find another like you as well, so humble and yet so strong. You being poor… made you appreciate warmth and that is all I need now from you."
As soon as they entered their private quarters, which she insisted, he did not waste a moment, his lips leaving fire in their wake as he kissed down her body, cupping both of her breasts and running his hot tongue over her teats after he tore off her clothes.
"Whoa, someone is eager tonight," Arya cracked.
"You make me this way, my lady," Gendry jested, knowing that Arya still had discomfort in that. While she grew more confident in herself, Arya always felt like her body was not good enough, that she needed more curves and others that made other ladies desirable like Daenerys. But when he touched and kissed her as he was now, she felt all of her needs satisfied.
His rough hands continued to gently fondle her breasts as he moved. Picking her up, Arya marveled at his confidence, which she believed just needed to be released when he was doing something useful.
The first touches of his warm mouth to her clit made her breath hitch. The sliding of his tongue against her entrance, teasing her briefly before dropping down to lap at her entrance caused her to thrash beneath him. It was as if he knew what to do, making Arya all the more giddy that her man knew what she liked before she even asked. His fingers danced along the inside of her thigh, causing her to shake. His blue eyes met her grey ones, while the smooth glide of his fingers inside her, along with the tease of his tongue and lips, made her feel as intense as the harshest blizzard in the North. So… raw…
"Don't stop, Gendry. Don't you stop, stupid," Arya gasped.
He bit against her skin before he sped up the touch of his fingers, quickening her heartbeat and making both sweat. Feeling so wet, she had to feel her own hands on his muscled torso. But he responded quickly, catching both of her hands in his free one and held them against her belly. She was restrained beneath him. With the way he sucked on her entrance, his fingers pumping into her so rapidly, she did not mind being dominated by him. It was then that she yelled, "GENDRY!" Is this what it felt like, when Robb and Theon said that they came?
While she was enraptured by her feelings, he crawled over her body. His mouth met hers and they both greedily kissed each other. He rolled to his back, pulling her on top, and she thrilled to see him wiping sweat from his brow and his eyes raking over her body. Remembering what she overheard from Robb and Theon after their dalliances in Winter Town, she gave Gendry a sultry smile as she took his cock in her hand and ran her hands rapidly in a vertical motion. She felt her mouth freeze as he squeezed her breasts. By the old gods… oh…
The strokes at first were slow, but it became more determined as she felt his large hands caress her thighs, ass, her belly, her sides, and then her face. He pulled on her a bit and she fell against his chest to press her lips to his. Not going to be outdone, she moved fast and pounded his waist with hard vertical movements, her entrance slamming on the sides of his length.
Suddenly she was on her back, heels resting on his shoulders as he began thrusting into her just as roughly. She gasped as his thrusts sped up until she found it nearly impossible to breathe.
"Gendry," she panted slowly and then his fingers pressed against her little bud and she came once more beneath him. Her legs shook, eyes rolled, unable to see him as she felt such intensity in her core. She groaned as he pulled out of her and pumped his hot seed straight into her.
Gendry collapsed to the side of her, his hand finding hers. She opened her eyes and saw him lying on his back, covered in sweat, and gloriously naked. He was hers and she relished in it until he stirred from the bed and grabbed the piece of linen beside the water basin and rejoined her on the bed where he cleaned her up. She was truly exhausted, now. He dropped the soiled rag beside the basin and tucked the light sheet around them as he settled back into bed.
"I love you," he whispered to her while kissing her gently.
She moved into his arms, even though it was almost too warm to be so close to one another. She would suffer through anything for him, now that they went through this. "I love you, too."
"Let's get some sleep. You've worn me out," he jested as he hugged her closer to him.
"Good idea. And then we can do it all over again later."
He chuckled, very amused. "And to think that I deserve a she-wolf like you."
"Of course you don't deserve me. Why would a wolf want to sleep with a stag?" she jested back, causing a snort from Gendry as they finally went to sleep.
A/N: So, Stannis is dead (yes, by the Waif), but that doesn't mean the War of the Five Kings is over.
Sansa is shocked by the news of his death as well as Jon Snow's ancestry, but is she glad that Joffrey is dead. But we now have her doubt her betrothal with Harold Hardyng.
Nothing better than Jonerys and Gendyra hooking up, right? ;) But we see Ser Davos getting acclimatized to the dragons and then we see the fates of those like Quentyn Martell (know a few of you were curious about him) and the slave masters, as well as Varys.
