Jaeron Targaryen

Sunspear, 300AC

When Oberyn Martell had smiled at him when he stated what he wanted to do and that he wanted himself and his brother to be a part of it, a weight lifted from him. Something that had been there for a long time as he remembered the last time he had stood in this very room and had not so subtly threatened the pair. Arthur pulling him aside when they were leaving so long ago ranting on how stupid it was and that he wanted to have them on their side. Instead, him doing so had made them neutral. Not ideal, but better than nothing. Yet now? Relief washed through his body in a way he had not experienced yet.

It appeared that both Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn were coming around.

Beforehand, they were partially bound by family through his deceased half-siblings. Now, they were bound through a joint hatred and through a betrothal. He felt guilt over the fact that he had basically offered Sansa like a broodmare when she was none-the-wiser, but he knew they would not accept a second daughter. He also did not want to face Arya if he had done so with her.

"Tell me, where was the beast seen?"

The younger Prince was walking beside him now, people clearing a path for both themselves and Ser Arthur, trying to ignore the hushed whispers as clearly it had seeped into Dorne just who he was. Not surprising with the Dayne's in support of him through Allyria. Arthur had sent a raven to his niece with Doran's approval to determine if there was a way she could pacify those following House Dondarrion to not fall back towards either Stannis, Renly, or gods forbid Joffrey. Remembering the words from his Kingsguard that sometimes it's not about how many allies a claimant has but how difficult it is for other claimants to get allies to win a war.

"Castle Darry, my Prince. And we know the Old Lion is in Harrenhal."

"Sticking around the Kings Road then, shouldn't be difficult to track him down."

No, it wouldn't be difficult to do so. What was going to be difficult was taking the brute down. Yes, he could just use Rhaegon or Lyrax and burn him to a crisp. It would be justice for him but he knew the Martell's wanted to put him through a whole lot worse than this. By now, they were outside and heading towards the beach. Lyrax gliding across the calm waters and his own mount lying on the white sand. Silver head raising as the dragon snorted loudly, clearly not trusting the Prince. Gently placing a hand on his snout and stroking the area to calm him before beckoning the two over- a small smile coming onto his face when he spotted Arthur look a little green at the thought of being in the air again. They couldn't ride on horses; it would take too much time. Time was something they did not have on their side currently. He could not remain here for long. The plan was to find the Mountain, take him back to Sunspear for whatever the Martell brothers had planned for him, head back to his own camp to see if Robb was successful in taking Castamere and the Crag, meet with the Tyrell's after receiving their raven, then for his aunt to report her findings whenever she made it back from the Stormland's.

By now, he was mounted on the dragons back. Arthur glaring at him for making him do this again and stating to Oberyn how best to mount. The older man had a look of interest on his face, not that he could blame him. How many people could say they had ridden a dragon? To date, it was three. Himself, Arthur Dayne, and Oberyn Martell. Once he was seated behind him, Arthur pulling himself up to wedge in between in case he tried something stupid. Jaeron doubted he would, but it was best to remain cautious. Especially because he wasn't exactly liked by the ruling House of Dorne for obvious reasons. Whilst it was reasons not in his control as he had not even been born yet, he still symbolised a lot to them.

A single word spoken was all it took for Rhaegon to leap into the sky and much to his annoyance, do a loop around Sunspear as if to show off. But after this, they turned northwest. Heading towards Vulture's Roost which they reached in under an hour before crossing over into the Reach. The less time spent in the Stormland's the better currently, the only House he somewhat felt safe around were the Dondarrion's but with Lord Beric being dead there was no certainty his successor would hold to the same values. Remaining low enough so he could see what was below them and still being shocked at just how little everything looked.

They passed Ashford, over Bitterbridge and noticing there was a large gathering- was that the Tyrell host? It must be, quickly rising into a cloud so he wouldn't be seen by them yet as they had either just found out who he was or were about to. He needed the element of surprise with that. There wasn't much after this, a few towns and numerous villages. No other castles although he did spot a few Holdfasts, wondering whether they were occupied and if they were who did. Still, they continued north towards Castle Darry which now he thought on it, was very close to Harrenhal. A plot forming in his mind and speaking aloud.

"How about sending the Old Lion a message, my Prince?"

He could tell Arthur disapproved from the huff which immediately turned into a sound like he were about to be sick from the speed and height they were travelling.

"What do you have in mind?"

What did he have in mind? A part of him wanted to immediately head there and burn Harrenhal to the ground. Finish what his ancestor had started to the point that the castle wasn't habitable in any area. But then a voice in the back of his head rung out that his aunts family held the castle. Whilst Catelyn was understandable furious Lady Shella had stepped aside, Brynden was much more compassionate. Lady Shella Whent was an elderly woman and she had multiple sons. If she refused to do so, Tywin wouldn't have hesitated to kill them all to claim the castle for himself. House Whent would die out. Whilst said House were not kin to him through blood, they were kin through marriage, and he wasn't going to kill people who were tied to himself just because he could. Some of his ancestors had done so and it had ended horribly.

"The last time a dragon flew over this castle with malicious intent burned much of it to the ground. But the last time House Lannister faced a dragon was during wars, wars in which the fields were set alight where the battle was being fought. Instead of a field of fire, how about surrounding them in fire?"

Arthur let out a sigh at this, momentarily expecting the worst before there was a long chuckle from Prince Oberyn.

"Are you planning to do so near it, or at it?"

That was something he had to think on. A part of him was wary about doing so, resistance about using his dragons unless he had no choice but to do so. But whilst he was travelling to Sunspear and now travelling back, he realised Robb's words were right. He could end the war easily. Likely in a matter of days if he wanted to. Kill Tywin here, head to Casterly Rock to burn it to the ground, head to Dragonstone to end Stannis, move to Bitterbridge to end Renly, and finally the capital to put a stop to Joffrey's madness. But what would that make him look like? An impatient tyrant. And that was something he didn't want as he was one of three Targaryen's still alive and he was the one at the head of it all simply because he was the son of a Crowned Prince.

"Around it, it will stall anyone leaving or entering for a week or possibly more. That will give us enough time to root out the Mountain's exact location."

Oberyn chuckled again at these words, showing he approved of such a move and from a simple glance behind him towards Arthur, he nodded too. That was all he needed as he came down from the clouds to spot water below. Knowing exactly where he was and gulping loudly, the God's Eye. The very area many of his ancestors had fallen. The water being surrounded by trees as they passed the Isle of Faces- the place his parents had wed one another in secret. Said to be the home to the largest Heart Tree in Westeros and where the Green Men lived. An organisation few were permitted to speak to, even Howland had not gotten the offer to do so when he had spent weeks on said Isle before the tourney of Harrenhal. Snapping his head up and squinting hard as a shadow appeared. A shadow that could only be one thing. Rising back into the clouds to use them to his advantage. Remaining idle above the castle and breathing deeply before ensuring the chains were as secure as they could possibly get before diving down at a dizzying speed.

He couldn't hear much other than wind rushing in his ears, feeling said body part aching like they were about to pop. Gritting his teeth as the cold seeped in. Something that was ignored as the first face registered in his mind. The man opening his mouth to scream but getting nowhere as Rhaegon let his fire out. Circling along the battlements and taking out those aligning the walls. If he couldn't take out Tywin just yet, he sure could take out a bulk of the force keeping his position here secure. The weaker he was, the easier the war would be to win. The scent of smoke and burnt flesh invaded his nostrils and almost made him gag on the spot but he couldn't show weakness in front of an enemy. Once he was certain he had gotten those on the battlements, he moved to around the castle where one of many Lannister armies awaited. Many running to grab a horse and fleeing the scene but he wasted no time. Diving down over the army in question and letting Rhaegon and Lyrax do the work for him.

Anger was burning deep within him, the thought that he could end his largest opposition right now fighting to be at the forefront of his mind. Managing to fight it off before encircling the castle one more time and having his dragons breathe fire which caught easily. Making sure to avoid areas where it would be easily spreadable because he didn't want to kill every occupant in the castle. But Brynden would not forgive him for doing so, and he knew for a fact Hoster Tully wouldn't approve of such as Lady Shella was his goodsister. House Tully were only with him through familial bonds but if he were to sever one of their familial bonds he would undoubtedly lose them. Which would then pin not only those he called his siblings in between family; it would make Robb a laughing stock as Lord Paramount of the North. Landing a bit farther west than he intended as he slid off Rhaegon's back after Arthur and Oberyn had done so, the weight of what he had just done sinking in. How many had he just killed there in a matter of minutes? Hundreds? Thousands? Feeling guilt take over as he knelt down by a stream to take a gulp of the water from it.

Men who would not be returning to their wives, friends, sons, daughters, maybe even grandchildren. All because they were the unlucky lot who happened to be in the Lannister army. People didn't choose often which army they were a part of, it all coming down to whose lands they typically resided in. For all he knew he had just taken out numerous High Lord's who might've been discussing plans. Clenching his hands into fists that he had completely lost himself to the rage for the entirety and not noticing sigils of other House's.

"Are you okay?"

Arthur gently placed his hand on his shoulder, seemingly realising it had already caught up to him. This was nothing like the other battles they had already fought in. Where he had looked every one of those he had killed in the eye because if a person could not look someone in the eye as they were having their life taken, perhaps said person did not deserve to die. The man he had called father for much of his life words ringing in his mind and desperately trying to fight them away. He had only looked a handful of those he had just burned in the eye, out of hundreds.

"How many men did I just kill, Ser?"

He knew immediately what was bothering him now, turning him so he was looking him directly in the face.

"I'd say roughly two thousand, your Grace- "

"Two thousand. Dead in a matter of minutes- "

"Lannister men, any Lannister follower deserves to die."

Oberyn walked up towards him now, a satisfied smile on his face which did not sit right with Jaeron.

"War is an ugly thing, Jaeron. There is no other way to say it. There is no such thing as a war without committing mass murder. Do I think you were incredibly impulsive in doing what you just did? Aye, I won't sugar coat it. But those men would've been used against you at some point and now they can't be used in such a way."

It did little to settle the guilt that was now eating him up, remembering the look of sheer panic on the first mans face before he had been reduced to ashes flashing in his mind every time he blinked. Did his ancestors feel like this when they burned people with their dragons? It was a question he wouldn't get an answer to as he had been the first person to hatch a dragon in well over one hundred years. The last dying during Aegon III's reign and as a result being known as the Dragonbane. Sighing deeply before nodding his head. He wasn't stupid enough to believe Arthur fell for it nor did Prince Oberyn, but both knew he didn't want to talk further on it.

"Lets go find a Mountain to climb."

That done it. All mounting once again and heading further north towards Castle Darry. Or what remained of Castle Darry as they came across smoking ruins. So not only had the beast and his men sacked the castle and ended House Darry, they torched their castle whilst they were at it. Perhaps they had done so whilst people were still within. Flying over it and listening intently but it was quiet. People would've been screaming if they were still alive. Looking as far as he could in all directions to see if he could spot the beast. But no people were there, nor were there any groups. They couldn't have gotten far though, that was some comfort. He hadn't come south as by now they would've passed them. Meaning they were either further north or further west considering all there was to the right was jagged rocks where the Riverland's met the Vale.

"He'll have gone west."

"How can you be so sure, my Prince?"

Oberyn chuckled darkly again, that was something that didn't sit right with him either. Clearly taking immense joy in what they were currently doing. How someone could take joy in as Arthur said it, mass murder, was strange to him.

"He's a beast, and beasts lurk where they have easy prey. He'll move to a nearby town."

He hated to admit he had a point there. Turning to head west and remaining low enough to keep an eye on the ground for any sight of the man who had murdered his blood brother before raping Princess Elia and splitting her in half with his sword. If it weren't for Eddard's confirmation that was how she had been presented to Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister's feet, he would've thought it was fabricated. Yet it was confirmed, Elia's body being presented in two separate rolls of Lannister red at the base of the Iron Throne. Anger surging through him once more as they passed the next town which he noticed had also been torched. Clearly leaving a path of destruction in his way. Trepidation sinking in as they passed the next two villages which were also in the same state as the town and Castle Darry. They were getting close.

"Remember my Prince, I want at least one hit in."

"I will grant you such, I may even allow you the first hit. But his life is my brothers and I's to take."

That was fair. Whilst he did want to kill the man himself, the Martell's had a much higher reason to want him dead.

"I did not see your niece in Sunspear, my Prince."

"Because my niece is in Norvos spending time with her mother as she rarely gets to see her. My goodsister will not step foot in Dorne so long as my brother still lives as she hates

him for his machinations."

His eyebrows furrowed a little at the words. He'd heard Lady Mellario had left Dorne over differences she was unable to overcome with her husband, but the reasons were never actually disclosed. Did he dare ask such? Eventually deciding against it because whilst he was far from friendly with House Martell, it was better than it was beforehand. Him giving them the chance to avenge their sister and nephew building a part of the bridge between the two sides. Then a group became obvious, and one in particular catching his eye due to the sheer size of the man. He could just command either Rhaegon or Lyrax to burn him right now, but he had made a promise. Instead climbing into the clouds to search for a clearing before all jumped off the dragons back. Prince Oberyn taking his spear and running a cloth over the blade until it was gleaming as the light hit it. Twirling the weapon a few times before marching forward. Arthur looking to him as if asking permission but just following the other instead, slowly unsheathing both Longclaw and Dark Sister as he did so.

The clearing was much farther than he would've liked, but it was better than nothing. Walking through the trees until they were out in the open where they had seen the beast heading. How long they had waited, he knew nought. Not being able to tell with the positioning of the sun as it was covered fully with clouds now. The silence soon being overridden with the clicking of hooves on the pathway. Making sure to cover himself behind a tree as did the others in case it wasn't who they were after. Adrenaline beginning to rush through him as they got closer and he spotted the sigil with three dogs on it, knowing they had gotten their target. All leaving their hiding places and due to how close they were, it spooked some of the horses which reared up and knocked their riders off before galloping away. Riders getting to their feet and unsheathing their swords to engage with them.

Gods, they were fast. That was the first thing in his mind as he ducked low, a sword swinging directly where his head had been a second before, raising his own and fighting back as well as he could. Spotting an opening after what felt like hours and removing the mans sword arm before sliding Dark Sister through his neck. Falling to the ground and gurgling as his own blood filled his lungs. A sound he had become somewhat accustomed to from other battles. Ser Arthur was spinning both Dusk and Dawn in a way that awed him, like they were actually attached to his body and not items he was holding with his hands. Turning as he heard footsteps behind him and remembering he could not get distracted here. If he did get distracted, it would end his life.

Luckily, this man was not as coordinated as the first, but he was considerably taller and larger, something he used to his advantage because there was much more he could hit. Longclaw wedging in his side and slicing through to what he assumed was his spine when he had bent to the side to expose a gap in his armour. Blood pooling at his feet as he somehow remained standing. Fighting back as well as he could but this was ended when the end of a spear exited out the centre of his face. Seeing Prince Oberyn stood there and nodding silently to him. Jaeron was about to thank the Prince for what he did but before he could blink he had disappeared amongst the carnage once more.

Where was the Mountain?

Surely he would've already appeared or been seen. Cursing loudly that he must've broke off and counting how many men there were lying on the ground. Fifteen, and a further nine were fighting still. From above he had counted around fifty, so where were the remainder? This was answered as the thudding of galloping hooves entered, looking up to see the others heading directly their way. Immediately letting out a loud whistle and hoping Rhaegon and Lyrax would get here on time. Ducking and placing Longclaw out as a horse ran directly through the weapon, falling to the ground with a severed leg and causing a distraction in those riding their way. Using this to his advantage and fighting harder than he had before. Taking notes from Ser Rodrik, Ser Arthur, and Ser Brynden and applying them where he could.

Then he felt the blow to his back which knocked him forward, turning just as a sword was coming down towards him and managing to roll out the way. But he didn't have time to get back to his feet. Frantically looking around for either Ser Arthur or Prince Oberyn but both had disappeared. He had to get the better of this fight. Then he spotted the opening, one he had used ironically with Ser Arthur whilst training in Greywater Watch. Fighting off the attacks and slowly moving forward until his feet were behind the other mans. Then with one jerk of his ankles, he went staggering and falling to the ground himself. Jaeron standing up and wasting no time in driving Dark Sister into the mans throat and moving on to the next man.

That was when a loud roar broke through, both dragons releasing fire on those below but quickly telling Rhaegon through his bond they were not to harm the largest man whom he noticed Ser Arthur was now fighting against. He didn't even realise he was this close to him and realising once again he was getting lost in the midst of everything. There is no such thing as a war without mass murder. His Kingsguard's words from not long ago ringing in his ears. Within seconds, only five people were left standing, himself taking down the extra man as horses that were not injured whinnied and ran away from the carnage that had occurred. Now, it was three against one, the one they were up against being the very man they had come here for. Jaeron gulped a little as he saw the sword and the sheer size of it. If he'd thought Ice was a great sword, it looked like a short sword in comparison. Having to be held with both hands on the hilt as it obviously weighed a lot.

This was not going to be easy, but he took joy in seeing Prince Oberyn smile wickedly as he eyed the man. So happy he was that he was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet and spinning his spear searching for an opening. Himself and Ser Arthur doing the same but no matter what they did, no one could land a hit on the beast. His armour had no chinks in it that he could see other than his hips and armpits, and his helmet covered his entire neck so a strike there was going to be useless. No, the only thing they could do was to remove the helmet and aim for his head. But they needed to get close to do so, and right now he was not letting either of them get close enough to do so. Seemingly knowing that was where they would aim.

All were circling him now, taking it in turns to see if someone could strike where it was needed. Taking advantage of the mans blind spot. After what felt like hours, Prince Oberyn finally succeeded in knocking the helmet off and rolling in the ground to avoid the sword landing on him. Was this the sword he had used to kill Elia? Just like that, anger surged through him as he fought with more vigour. Ignoring the tight feeling in his limbs from exertion which he knew would come back to bite him later. Then Ser Arthur spotted another chink, and he cursed to himself he hadn't noticed beforehand. There was a gap at his ankle, Dusk going directly into the mans foot and the beast let out a yell so loud it sounded like a roar. Where Rhaegon and Lyrax had gotten to he wasn't sure, but he could feel them nearby. Likely devouring some nearby livestock over a job well done.

Now he knew where an opening was, he aimed for the same. Succeeding after numerous failed attempts. Stumbling in pain as now both of his feet had stab wounds in them. But so far, nobody had succeeded in getting him to the ground. Oberyn began circling the man and attacking all the way, wondering what he was doing and stepping back a little. Arthur had a good reason to want the beast dead, he had a bigger reason. But out of the three, Oberyn had the largest reason. After a few moments, he realised what he was doing. Tiring the man out, which coupled with his injured feet would be a combination that would work in their favour. They needed him on the ground. And that was when Oberyn began talking.

"Elia Martell, you raped her, murdered her, and threw a babe against a wall. Admit it."

A part of him wanted to yell, because now was not the time to goad. The beast letting out a roar as he aimed for the Prince who dodged out the way surprisingly easily. When he had stated he only fought with a spear, Jaeron had felt nervous. Surely a spear couldn't cause as much damage as a sword? Yet he had been proven wrong. Twirling the weapon and searching for more chinks in the armour. Only now realising they had moved farther away and moving to help only for Ser Arthur to grab his shoulder.

"Leave them, this is Oberyn's fight. We will step in if we need to, your Grace."

It wasn't just his fight though, but right now he wasn't in the mood to fight with the Knight so he stayed back and watched as the pair danced around one another. He hated to admit it, but it was impressive the beast could still do so with the wounds in his feet.

"Elia Martell, you raped her, murdered her, and threw a babe against a wall. Say it!"

The same words were coming from the Prince over and over again. Itching to join in himself, the only thing stopping him doing so was that Oberyn was confident he could take him down himself. But he wasn't going to do so until he got the confession he desired. A confession he himself desired. Whilst it was widely believed he had been the one to do so, to his knowledge he had never actually said so aloud.

"Elia Martell, you raped her, murdered her, and threw a babe against a wall. I would hear you confess."

The more he spoke that sentence, the louder his voice got. Now being at a point where it was booming loudly. The beast began laughing now but no words were spoken, Oberyn finally having enough of his games and using his spear to launch himself into the air a couple of feet and twirling the spear around in just enough time to aim for his chest, digging the weapon underneath the armour from the angle he had been at. The Mountain falling backwards at this as he freed the weapon from him. Walking around him angrily repeating those words nonstop and getting angrier as time went on. It happened quickly. He had blinked and where Oberyn had been walking around him and the beast was on the ground, Oberyn was now on the ground and the beast had rolled over atop him and his monstrous hands wrapped around his neck. Not even needing to look at Arthur as both ran over to help.

Arthur aimed another hit at the mans ankle which had him roaring in pain and anger but it was enough for Oberyn to gain the upper hand by shimmying out of his grasp to get to his feet again. His neck now bright red from where he had almost been strangled and his nose bleeding heavily as he must have been struck. Returning to circling the man and repeating the words as he had yet to receive the confession he desperately wanted. A part of Jaeron wanted to yell to just kill him, but a sickening part of him was enjoying him being toyed with. With little effort, they managed to get him on his back and Oberyn wasted no time in positioning his spear directly above his cheek, lowering it just enough to cut through the skin and begin carving away. Stomach turning at what he was doing but he couldn't show weakness currently.

"Elia Martell, you raped her, murdered her, and threw a babe against a wall. Confess."

The confession was quiet if he weren't listening for it he wouldn't have heard it.

"Aye, I raped your weakling sister and enjoyed it as she screamed in pain. All whilst what was left of her babe was scattered around us."

And there was the confirmation that what was said was true. He had raped her after ripping Aegon from her arms and throwing him against a wall. The only thing that calmed him was due to him being a little more than a year old, it would've been instant. No babe deserves to die solely because of who their parents were. One of many reasons Eddard had taken him in and kept up the mummery he was his bastard for sixteen years.

"Who gave you the order?"

Jaeron was now looking to Oberyn in shock, he still wasn't done with taunting him? Sharply jerking his spear for a second which removed a chunk of his cheek to expose pulsing muscle underneath alongside even more blood. He was beginning to feel queasy. Now, he was screaming in a mixture of pain and rage, and it was far from pleasant. Seeing him desperately trying to get to his feet but he put an end to it by slicing into his other ankle again. Now, there was no way he was getting back up.

"Who gave you the order?! Say their name!"

The spear moved to the other cheek now and began to carve into the skin like he were simply freshly cooked meat. Slicing the spear again but in a different direction to remove a large chunk of his nose. If he didn't feel sick beforehand, he certainly did now. Only realising Rhaegon and Lyrax had appeared again and were on either side of him and Arthur as they watched in horrified fascination. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to put the man through the seven hells. He himself had said so on many occasions since he had found out the truth, but even for him this was a bit much. Where his nose had been was just a gaping hole in his face, his skin now being invisible underneath red sticky blood. But no more confessions came, Oberyn admitting to himself he wasn't getting such before ripping off a portion of his breastplate and driving his spear deep into his chest but not where his heart was. Yelling out in pain once more before leaning down to wipe the blood from his spear and nodding to the pair of them.

Jaeron wasted no time in mounting Rhaegon and helping the Prince up behind him once more alongside Arthur who surprisingly this time didn't look green at the thought anymore. Dragon moving over to grab the Mountain in his claws before heading towards Sunspear again.

"A little too much, don't you think, my Prince?"

"Nay, Ser Arthur. This is only the beginning."

He felt ill at the thought, trying his best to wipe the thought from his mind but this was immediately replaced with the look of horror on the man at Harrenhal before turning him to ashes. He was not going to sleep well tonight or for a few days, that was for sure. Whilst they were flying, the Mountain was still yelling in pain, it becoming obvious to him now that he had been tortured in a way he would not die from these injuries. His words only cementing this fact.

"It's incredible really, what a small vial can do to a person."

What? He didn't need to wait long on an answer as Arthur stated in disbelief he had used poison. Remembering from his studies with Lord Howland and Maester Luwin that Prince Oberyn had a keen interest in poisons and even studied them at the Citadel.

"Manticore venom, if you are curious."

"Manticore venom kills instantly though- "

"Not with interference. I've kept this vial on me for a long time, Ser. Got it from a trip to Qarth a few years prior where I became somewhat friendly with some of the Warlocks. They have another poison they do not name that when mixed with manticore venom will slow the effects down but amplify the pain at the same time."

If he thought he was dangerous beforehand, he was proven wrong. He had no remorse over what he had done. Just the sheer thought he had flayed the mans cheeks made him want to vomit on the spot. Having to use every ounce of willpower he had in him not to do so. By the time they reached Sunspear, it was pitch black. Only being able to spot the castle due to its glistening white walls and towers. Landing soon after where Oberyn tied the mans legs and arms so he could not make an escape by some miracle, dragging the man yelling in pain into the courtyard of the castle where Prince Doran was sat on his chair with a sadistic smile on his face.