"Asha Greyjoy?" Daemon asked.
Of all the answers he was expecting to the question of who his mystery summoner was, he never even fathomed that it could be a Greyjoy. Ser Barristan's hand flew to the pommel of his sword before anyone could blink, and the Unsullied were instantly on their guard.
"Calm yourself, Prince," Asha said, smirking. "If I were here to kill you, telling you my name would have been the last thing I did."
"Forgive me if I don't take you at your word," Daemon said. "My history with your family isn't exactly pleasant."
"It really isn't, is it?" Asha asked, downing the rest of her tankard of ale. "I called you here for a reason, and it's best not discussed in public. The room I'm staying in tonight is far enough away from this lot that we should be able to talk privately."
"You expect him to go with you?" Ser Barristan asked.
"My sword and knife aside, I'm unarmed," the woman said as she removed her weapons and their scabbards from her belt and placed them on the bar. Holding her arms above her head, she looked at him and said, "Check yourself."
"White Fly, pat her down," Daemon said.
Asha pouted, looking disappointed that he got one of the eunuch guards to check her for weapons instead of doing it himself, and he wondered exactly what her game was.
"She's unarmed," White Fly said.
"Grab my blades for me, will you?" she asked as she turned to walk towards the stairs.
White Fly turned to him, and when he nodded, the Unsullied did so. Daemon followed her, his hand still on the pommel of his sword, and noticed for the first time that she looked haphazardly dressed, as though she had put her riding leathers on quickly and without care. Given the first thing she said to him, he guessed that she had been with a whore when he interrupted her.
The sounds of moaning and grunting filled the air as he ascended the steps of the brothel. As Asha turned and opened the door to one particular room, though, he realized that there were moans coming from it. Two gorgeous women with hair like fire were locked together on the bed, each with her head buried between the other's thighs. By their muffled cries and writhing bodies, he figured that they had both cum just before he arrived.
"Fucking hells...your tongue is gift...from the gods," one of the two panted as she rolled onto her back.
If she didn't have the largest tits he had ever seen, she had to be close, and he marveled at the sight of the massive mounds. They had to be at least as big as Arianne's were at the moment, and her tits were heavy with milk.
"I should be paying yo...ahh!" the busty whore squeaked as she spotted all of the armed men gathered by the doorway. "What's going on?!"
Her thinner and more well-built companion just spared them a single glance before cocking a ginger brow at Asha.
"It's alright, Dancy," Asha said, picking up a small coin purse and tossing it at the whore. "Sadly, we have to end things early for tonight, but I'll have your gorgeous little ass tomorrow."
"Looking forward to it," Dancy purred before collecting her things and taking off into the brothel.
Asha sat down ungracefully in a small chair in the room, and her companion got up off of the bed and climbed into her lap, completely at ease with her nudity. Asha placed a hand on the other woman's thigh and inched it towards her forest of red curls so she could toy with her wet folds.
"Helga's axe is in the corner there," Asha said, pointing with her other hand. "You hardly need to search her."
"Clearly not," Daemon said, looking the other woman up and down. There was a hard edge to her green eyes, much like Asha's dark ones, but just like the brunette, there was a hint of mirth in them as well.
"You're the prince?" Helga asked. "I was expecting someone less pretty."
"Valyrians are all pretty," Asha said. "We've dined on enough Lysene cunt to know that."
"He doesn't look Valyrian, though," Helga said.
"I have my mother's coloring," Daemon said as he picked up Helga's axe and examined it. It was of a decent quality. "Ser Barristan, put this with the others."
"Yes, my prince," Ser Barristan said, taking the axe from him.
"Alright, talk," Daemon said.
"For a man who drowns in cunt like you apparently do, you're not as charming as I imagined," Asha said.
"And you're far friendlier than I would have expected a living Greyjoy to be," Daemon said. "I distrust friendliness I don't understand."
"Did you want me to hate you?" Asha asked.
"I certainly would have expected it," Daemon said.
"Well, rest assured, I did at first," Asha said, her eyes narrowing. "When I returned to my home to discover that some cunt from the Westerlands had taken it as his own because every single one of my kin had died at your hands, I wanted to tear out your throat with my fucking teeth."
Ser Barristan and the Unsullied tensed, and the old knight drew a few inches of steel in warning, but Daemon didn't move a muscle.
"What changed?" he asked.
"I spoke to my uncle," Asha said.
"How many of you are left, exactly?" Daemon asked.
"Greyjoys? Only the one," Asha said, her eyes dimming a bit. "My mother's a Harlaw, though, and her brother, my Uncle Rodrik, yet lives. He tried to tell my father that attempting to abduct a prince of the blood was foolish and that he was going to get everyone killed. My father spat in his face, named him a coward, and refused to let him or his two sons take part in the battle."
"He saved their lives," Daemon said.
"I was reaving in the Stepstones when my father learned that you were living on Bear Island," Asha said. "Uncle Rodrik sent both of my cousins, Theo and Sigurd, to come find me once the fleet left. By the time we returned, you had already struck."
"What was your father's plan, exactly?" Daemon asked. "I've long wondered what the fuck he thought he was going to accomplish."
"He thought that having a royal hostage would force your father to give him free reign in the west," Asha scoffed. "My uncle remains convinced that he had gone mad and while my mother curses your name, she curses his as well."
"You don't seem to curse me, though," Daemon said.
"As I said, I did at first, but Uncle Rodrik convinced me that hating you was pointless," Asha said. "He greatly admired my grandfather, Quellon Greyjoy, who tried to change the way we lived. I was young when he died and don't remember him much, but according to my uncle, he was the wisest man he ever met. He believed that our old ways had crippled us and that if we did not adapt and try to integrate more with the greenlanders, we'd eventually fall into ruin. His reforms were not popular, but he was strong enough to force them on us anyway. What he wasn't was immortal."
"Sounds like King Aegon V," Ser Barristan commented, plainly trying not to look at the naked woman still sitting in Asha's lap.
"Did Aegon's son undo all of his accomplishments within a week of his death?" Asha asked.
"A moon," Ser Barristan replied.
"Then they were very alike," Asha said. "My father and my uncles hated everything that my grandfather stood for, and when he died trying to join the fight against the rebels after the stag died at the Trident, they barely waited at all to set things right, as they saw it. My grandfather was right about one thing, though; we couldn't go on as we were. There were too fucking many of us and not enough to go around, and with every cock-brained cunt more interested in plundering gold and women than anything more useful, our problems grew."
"So your father tried to take me hostage and use me to force my father to let him plunder the Sunset Coast?" Daemon asked.
"My fool brothers would have walked through fire for his approval, and so he doomed us all," Asha spat. "Twas only luck that saw me decide to visit Lys a few weeks before he formed his plan."
"So, as interesting as this is, I have to ask, why did you call me out here?" Daemon asked. "What is this threat to my family?"
"A pressing one and one that I'll happily tell you everything I know about," Asha replied, "but I want something from you first."
"I'd be shocked if you didn't," Daemon said. "What?"
"I want my home back," Asha said.
"Your home?" Daemon asked, shocked by her audacity.
"Pyke has been in my family for longer than the Lannisters have had the Rock or the Starks have had Winterfell," Asha said. "It's not the largest or the wealthiest island, but it's mine by right, and I want it back."
"You ask for something I don't have the right to give you," Daemon said.
"The Iron Fleet wasn't yours to give to Dorne, nor were the Dothraki women," Asha pointed out, "but you have a habit of taking what you please, no matter what rights you have or lack."
"Your people attacked me," Daemon said, his eyes narrowing.
"I know," Asha said, "but the horsefuckers didn't. I wasn't condemning you just now, nor was I jesting when I toasted you as the greatest reaver to ever live down there. What you've done since the Battle of Bear Island is nothing short of extraordinary. Crushing an entire people and taking all of their women, weapons, and gold for yourself. I don't have a single ancestor who wouldn't be green with envy at that."
Daemon scowled at that, not particularly liking the comparison between him and the Ironborn, even if he couldn't exactly argue against it.
Changing the subject, he asked, "Who has been made Lord of Pyke?"
"Gregor Clegane," Asha snarled, "and Lord Tywin made it very clear that the only way I could ever even step foot in my old home would be to marry the giant. Given that his last three wives didn't live a year, well…"
"Wait, what?" Daemon asked, blinking in confusion.
All that he really knew of The Mountain That Rides was that he was enormous and stronger than any other man in Westeros. He had a faded memory of seeing a man who towered head and shoulders above everyone else competing in a tourney at King's Landing before he left to be fostered in Winterfell, but that was it. He didn't even recall how the man fared.
"That is, as far as I know, true, my prince," Ser Barristan said.
"To wed that monster would be certain death, even if I weren't already wed, and even if I managed to get him first, Pyke would not become mine," Asha said. "I need your help, and I'm willing to pay for it with what I know."
Daemon sat and strummed his fingers against the arm of the chair. He knew logically that he had no real power to give Asha what she wanted, and even if he tried to convince his father, the man would be reluctant to bother Lord Tywin in aid of a Greyjoy. He was, however, convinced that the eunuch had to have been plotting something when he was arrested and wanted desperately to figure out what it was.
"Tell me of this danger my family is in, and I will consider your request," Daemon said.
Ser Barristan tensed by his side but remained silent.
"I suppose I can tell you some of it," Asha said. "There is a septon who preached a message of hatred against the royal family and all the nobles of the land in this city for many moons."
"Fucking hells," Daemon groaned. "The man preached his message when the people were hungry and found an audience, only to fuck off to parts unknown weeks ago. This much I know already."
Asha blinked and cocked her head, looking amused rather than annoyed. With a small smile on her face, she said, "Then I guess you already know what you need to. Were I to learn more, would you be willing to help me?"
"Bring me something of substance, and I will do all that I can to aid you," Daemon said. All that he could realistically do was fuck all, but that was beside the point.
"Then I guess I've wasted your time," Asha said. "Just so you don't leave here with nothing, I'd happily pay for you to have a go at Dancy."
"A generous offer, but I must decline," Daemon said.
"As you will," Asha said, reaching up and cupping one of Helga's sizable breasts. "I guess I've just always been partial to cunt wrapped in hair like fire."
She leaned in and kissed her companion passionately, her dark eyes never leaving him, and Daemon resisted the urge to roll his own eyes. He assumed that the pirate woman had been trying to make him uncomfortable to whatever end with her display, but while she had definitely succeeded in bothering Ser Barristan, he was so desensitized to things like this by now that it was hardly different than watching leaves rustle in the wind. He was also well satisfied by Bellegere and Tyene before he arrived at the brothel.
"Farewell, dragon prince," Asha said as he turned to leave.
"Return her weapons to her," Daemon said to White Fly as he made his way out into the hallway.
Ser Barristan waited until they were some distance from the brothel before saying, "Please tell me you aren't seriously entertaining the thought of intervening on that creature's behalf, my prince."
"She's given me nothing to justify aiding her," Daemon said, "and if she did, there's little that I could likely do, but I promised her as little as she gave me."
Asha Greyjoy had clearly been holding something back at the end there, but he had seen little point in pushing her on it and sincerely doubted that he had seen the last of her. He didn't know if he could trust her claims that she blamed her father more than him for the destruction of her house and would put his guards on alert in case she came after him or his family, but for now, he was content to have her watched and leave it at that. His suspicion that the eunuch was still plotting against his family still weighed on his mind, and he resolved to go see the cockless creature the next day, but for the time being, what he wanted more than anything was to crawl into the bed he'd left and sleep.
"I like not these remaining rolls," Arianne complained as she felt up her soft belly.
"You were as big as a house less than a fortnight ago and you're already looking nearly as slim as you were before," Obara scoffed.
"But not as slim," Arianne fretted.
"You're every bit as beautiful as you've always been," Obara said, her green eyes looking her up and down with clear lust.
"Mayhaps some day I'll believe you," Arianne sighed. "For now, though, my biggest problem is that I have fucking nothing to wear. My old dresses don't fit nicely yet, and the damn tarps I had to drape around myself while I was pregnant are far too loose. I wish I had thought to have something else made before this moment."
"You could have the seamstresses in today and see if they can't have something ready for tomorrow," Obara said.
"Even if they could work that quickly, I refuse to delay my first trip outside in days a moment longer," Arianne grumbled. "I've been going mad cooped up in here."
"What about that beige one?" Obara asked. "It's smaller than the other dresses you wore while you were pregnant."
"Dreadfully plain, but I suppose it will have to do," Arianne said as she felt the soft fabric.
It was something she had made to get used to wearing looser-fitting clothes while her belly was just starting to swell and was her least favorite of them, but she had to wear something. Without being asked to, Obara helped her into the dress, taking the opportunity to feel up her heavy tits in the process, much to Arianne's amusement.
"There," Arianne said, looking down at herself. "None of my jewels really complement this, but it's not like I'm attending a formal feast, so I can go without. Tyene and Nymeria should have set up the picnic by now, so we really should be off."
The guards parted for the pair of them, and Obara remained by her side and on alert as they made their way through the castle. Daemon had said that they should be on their guard for the next little while before he went to the training yard for his usual morning routine, promising to elaborate later. She had agreed to double the guards outside the nursery, as she doubted that any amount of protection for her son would ever seem excessive in her eyes, but doubted that she herself was in any particular danger inside the keep itself. As they reached the entryway and were about to head off onto the grounds, they were interrupted.
"You there, girl!" a haughty-sounding older woman said, pointing at her, "We have traveled far to see the new High Septon give a service in the Sept of Baelor and brought a gift for his Grace. Fetch more servants and bring these chests wherever you put such things."
Arianne just blinked and stared mutely at the noblewoman, who stood in the company of two younger girls who had to be her daughters and a man she figured was her husband. They had a few servants with them as well, some of whom were carrying heavy-looking chests.
"Are you deaf, girl?" the woman asked peevishly.
"Wow, I must look terrible if this cunt thinks I'm a servant girl," Arianne thought to herself.
"Speak to her like that again, and I'll rip out your tongue and shove it down your throat," Obara snarled, her grip on her spear tightening.
"How dare you?!" the man snarled, his hand going to the pommel of his blade.
"Guards, guards!" the woman cried. As two of the palace guards rushed over, she said, "This mannish servant just threatened my life!"
The guards looked at Arianne and asked, "Is this true, Princess?"
The looks on the noble couple's faces were priceless, and Arianne grinned at them as she said, "It was a bit of a misunderstanding. The lady here snapped at me when I did not answer her, but I was confused. You see, no one has ever referred to me as 'girl' before. Those privileged enough to do so call me Arianne, but most only ever dare refer to me as princess."
"I...I...I," the noblewoman stammered, doing her best impression of a dying fish as she went pale as snow.
"I can understand the confusion, however," Arianne said, her tone deceptively sympathetic. "You see, I don't look my best just now, as I gave birth to his grace's first grandchild not two weeks ago and haven't yet fully recovered."
If she thought the terrified couple looked funny before, they grew even more amusing as they went from looking pale to looking green.
"A...a thousand pardons, princess," the man said. "We did not know…"
"That much is clear," Arianne said. Spotting the heraldry on the clasp of the man's cloak, she took it for that of the Royces at first, until she recalled that there was no blue in their coat of arms. "Lord Hewett, I presume."
"Ye...yes, princess," the man replied.
"I would suggest taking more care with how you identify people going forward," Arianne said before turning to leave. Once they were out of earshot, she muttered, "Fucking Reachers."
"The look on that cunt's face was amazing," Obara laughed.
"The terror on their faces was the only reason I didn't make a bigger deal of the insult," Arianne said.
"It's a pity that Maekar's birth, the old High Septon's death, and the royal wedding all had to happen so close to each other," Obara said.
"Indeed," Arianne said. "The stupidity of that bitch, though. I know I'm not bejeweled and draped in purple silk, but I hold myself as the princess that I am. To mistake me for a lowborn servant…"
"I don't think that lot are particularly pleasant to most people," Obara said.
"Oh?" Arianne asked.
"Did you notice the servant girl among them with the huge tits?" Obara asked.
"Sadly, no," Arianne chuckled.
"Well, as you were putting the fear of the gods into her lord and lady, she looked like she was going to cum," Obara said, and Arianne laughed.
"Wait, was she the pretty one with hair like Lord Hewett's?" Arianne asked.
"Yes," Obara said, taking a moment to recall her hair.
"Hmm, I wonder..." Arianne said, trailing off as she thought of one possible way to pay back the slight from the Hewetts.
She wasn't petty enough to spend much time on them, but if her sudden hunch was correct, she might have a way to make that arrogant lady regret speaking to her as she did. While Arianne was contemplating minor revenge schemes, she noticed that Aegon, Viserys, Daenerys, and Rhaenys had joined her companions and lovers.
"Good morrow, cousin," Rhaenys said as she spotted her. "You're looking well."
"Not well enough, apparently," Arianne muttered. When Rhaenys cocked an eyebrow, she said, "Nevermind. What brings you all out here?"
"It's a gorgeous day, and none of us have much to do at the moment," Viserys said. "I spotted my darker nephew sparring with Ser Arthur earlier."
"How was he faring?" Arianne asked as she sat down next to Bellegere. The dark-skinned beauty handed her a lemon tart, which she accepted eagerly.
"Quite well, actually," Aegon replied. "It's rare that I see anyone hold their own against the Sword of the Morning. The gods know I've never managed."
"You fair well enough against the rest of the Kingsguard, Egg," Viserys said reassuringly. "Ser Arthur's just a very different sort of beast, I'm afraid. Speaking of beasts, where did you find that odd little creature?"
"He's not a beast," Daenerys said, petting Maegor's head as the lemur preened under her attention. "He's adorable."
"We found Maegor in the woods between Qohor and Vaes Dothrak," Arianne said.
"I still can't believe you named him Maegor," Rhaenys laughed.
"I'd have called him Balerion, but the name was taken," Arianne grinned. "Speaking of, do you think there's any chance we might be able to get Maegor to ride him? The visual alone would be hilarious."
"I'm afraid that cantankerous old cat of mine would sooner tear his throat out than be ridden by him," Rhaenys said.
"Tis true," Aegon said. "I sometimes swear my sweet sister is the only living thing that little cunt likes. I still have the scar on my left hand from when I tried to pet him as a boy."
"The scar's a quarter inch long and barely visible anymore," Rhaenys scoffed.
Aegon made a rude gesture with his left hand, ostensibly for the purpose of showing the scar, but didn't look bothered by his sister's words.
"Missandei here was just telling us about how many languages she speaks," Daenerys said, smiling at the former slave. "How in the world do you remember that many words?"
"It has always come naturally to me, princess," Missandei replied.
"Well, it will be nice to have someone else around for a while who speaks High Valyrian," Daenerys said warmly. "I hate how few opportunities I have to use it on a day-to-day basis."
"High Valyrian has always been my favorite tongue," Missandei said. "The gods could devise one nicer on the ears."
"Your favorite tongue might be Valyrian, but it isn't that one," Tyene quipped, smirking impishly.
"Tyene!" Missandei squeaked, blushing.
"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked, looking confused.
"She's being crude," Arianne said, reaching over and swatting Tyene's arse.
The blonde just giggled while Rhaenys leaned in and whispered something in Daenerys' ear. Her face went from pale to crimson in seconds as her niece explained a couple things to her.
"Prince Daemon does...that?" Daenerys asked, her violet eyes going wide as saucers.
"Something to look…" Arianne went to say, before remembering where she was and going silent. The topic did bring another to mind, and she turned to Aegon before saying, "Have you decided when you're going to speak to Daemon about...what we discussed?"
"In time," Aegon said, looking uncomfortable.
"Before the wedding, preferably," Rhaenys said archly.
"Of course," Aegon sighed.
"I just wish you'd get it over with," Rhaenys hissed. "It's not like he'll care, given how he lives."
All of Arianne's lovers turned to her with looks of curiosity and confusion, but she just shook her head. They'd learn in time, but until Aegon spoke to Daemon, she was keeping her mouth shut.
"Rhae, be patient with him," Daenerys said, resting her hand on the older woman's bare shoulder. "This isn't easy."
"I'm aware," Rhaenys sighed, "but the uncertainty is getting to me. I just want to know for sure where we all stand and soon."
"Tomorrow," Aegon sighed. "I'm not having this conversation without a drink or three in me, and I'm not drinking before the service later, so tomorrow."
"You're sure, Egg?" Viserys asked softly.
Aegon looked his uncle in the eye and said, "I am. I should have spoken to him days ago, Uncle."
"Alright," Viserys said.
"Thank you," Rhaenys said, looking and sounding like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
"Truly," Daenerys added.
"Is this something we're going to learn eventually or a crown secret?" Nymeria whispered in Arianne's ear when none of the Targaryens were looking.
"The former," Arianne mouthed to her. She then said, "Nym, would you care to join me after luncheon? I think its high time that Daemon and I tried that thing you're excited about."
"Of course," Nymeria said, looking ecstatic. "Do we know where Daemon is?"
"He said something about questioning a cunt," Aegon replied.
Daemon sidestepped the blow and thrust towards Ser Arthur's head. The man moved just enough to avoid being hit and batted his blade away with ease. He had never seen a warrior with greater economy of movement before, and he could understand just why he was considered the greatest swordsman of his age. He seemed to have an almost preternatural sense of where his opponent was going to strike next, and his reflexes were incredible, even past the age of forty. It made him an exhausting opponent for most, he imagined, since they would, with each motion, expend more energy than he did.
"Impressive," the man said, lowering his blade. "You taught him well, Barristan."
"Oh, he exceeded me long ago," Ser Barristan commented.
"You do seem better than the last time we sparred," Ser Arthur said.
"So do you, annoyingly," Daemon quipped, drinking from the cup of water that a servant brought him.
"If one is not improving, one is wasting away," Ser Arthur said.
Words the man apparently lived by. Daemon had sparred with him a few times when he was last in King's Landing and had instantly realized why the man had the reputation that he did. He was even better this time around, which made the fact that Daemon actually held his ground against him even more impressive.
"Well, as much as I'd like to keep going, there is something I need to take care of," Daemon said.
"Anything you'll need guards for?" Ser Barristan asked.
"I want to speak to Varys," Daemon said. "Has my father given any particular instructions to the men guarding him."
"Your father made it clear that no one was to approach him save for himself, the Lord Hand, and the princes," Ser Arthur said. "He meant Prince Aegon and Prince Viserys, but I doubt that he would object to letting you interrogate him, and he did not forbid you from doing so."
"Perfect," Daemon said, happy that he wouldn't need to take another detour on his way to the black cells, other than pausing to clean up a bit.
Once he had done so and changed out of his armor, he and Ser Barristan went down in the dungeon, finding Ser Jonothor and Ser Mandon standing guard.
"My prince," they said in unison, bowing their heads.
Daemon looked to Ser Barristan, who said, "His grace entrusted the care of the eunuch to the kingsguard."
"His most trustworthy knights," Daemon murmured, wishing that he'd learned this sooner.
"I'll have to speak with him and suggest using my Unsullied," he thought to himself. "They're just as loyal, and that way, our highest skilled knights wouldn't be wasted on guarding a fucking prisoner any more."
"Leave us," he said.
"Are you certain?" Ser Barristan asked.
"I'm quite safe here," Daemon said.
The three kingsguards obeyed his commands, though he knew that they would not go far.
"Prince Daemon," Varys said once they were alone, getting up from the rough bed in his tiny cell and making his way over to the bars.
Daemon's interactions with the old spy master had been exceedingly limited, but he knew at a glance that Varys had seen better days. He looked haggard and bruised, though the bruises seemed to be fading, so he figured that his father had ignored him for the past few days.
"Viserys," Daemon said.
"Oh, no one calls me that, prince," Varys chuckled, "not even my friends."
"So even Illyrio called you Varys?" Daemon asked, and despite himself, the eunuch's right eye twitched.
"Even him," Varys said, the pleasant tone he'd been forcing slipping a bit. "Pray tell, what brings you by?"
"I suppose I wanted to get a look at the man who almost brought down the house of the dragon," Daemon said. "We seldom spoke before, and I honestly paid you little heed in general."
"A eunuch is a curious thing," Varys tittered. "Neither man nor woman; neither a threat to guard against nor a thing to covet. I spent twenty years in this castle, and yet I may as well have been invisible most of the time."
"When I first read the accounts of the most recent captains general of the Golden Company, I was livid beyond words," Daemon said. "Once some time had passed, and especially after I had neutralized the threat you and yours posed, I came to genuinely admire you."
"Oh?" Varys asked, his friendly demeanor slipping again.
"Most of your forefathers were meatheads, banging their heads against a portcullis that was never going to budge, but not you," Daemon said. "You snuck your way in, hiding in plain sight, and nearly brought the whole thing down around your ears. If Robert Baratheon hadn't fallen at the Trident, who knows what you might have accomplished?"
"Gods, talk about meatheads," Varys groaned. "If that man ever had a single thought pass between his ears that wasn't about tits or his warhammer, it was probably about wine. Though he was as useless as most of the Baratheons, by the gods, he was strong. He had that one thing going for him, and even then he couldn't do the one thing I needed him to."
"You must have been livid when the news came," Daemon said.
"You have no idea," Varys muttered.
"So what happened next?" Daemon asked.
Varys just smiled and asked, "Did you really think that would work? Flattering me, winding me up, and trying to get me to talk from that?"
"I wasn't flattering you," Daemon said. "Had things gone differently in that battle, you could have done more damage to our house than anyone has since Otto Hightower, possibly even more. It was a good attempt, and you came close. I'm just curious about what you did after it failed."
"It's good to know that you have some limits," Varys said. "You're a peerless warrior and a frustratingly skilled strategist, but you're terrible at this."
"I suppose it depends on what you think I'm trying to accomplish," Daemon murmured. "I came down here because I wanted to see for myself what had become of you. As for my curiosity, you're going to die soon, and while I still can, I guess I just wanted to see what other failed plots you thought up after the Baratheon Uprising failed."
"Valar morghulis," Varys said.
"True," Daemon said, "but then, you are, as you said, not truly a man. You could have avoided all of this and lived in wealth and relative comfort in Essos, so why choose this dangerous game?"
"It's in my blood," Varys said, "the very blood I was gelded over. What else could I do after surviving that but try to make it all worth something?"
"Just a slave to your lineage, then?" Daemon asked. "All of this just to try and pull off what everyone else in your bastard line failed to do?"
"You say that as if we don't both trace out lineage back to bastards," Varys said.
"Even if Aemon did impregnate Nerys, it's ultimately irrelevant," Daemon said. "Power is all that matters, all that has ever mattered, and no matter what you've tried, the Blackfyres have never managed to match us there."
"And how could we ever hope to?" Varys asked, smirking. "The royal line is more secure than it has been in generations, with the king having such strong heirs."
Daemon just stared at the eunuch, convinced that he'd just been given as close to a hint of his plans as he was going to. "This has been fun," he said. "I'll probably come back before my father has you burned, impaled, or whatever he's come up with."
He turned and left without another word, signaling to the guards to return to their posts when he spotted them not far from the hallway he'd met them in.
"How did it go?" Ser Barristan asked once they were alone.
"About as well as I expected," Daemon said. "He said nothing of value."
Technically, that was true, but the conversation had still given him more cause to suspect, as he already had, that Varys was plotting something to do with him and Aegon. It made the most sense, and with the eunuch having lost everything, his only remaining move of any use would be to try and take the Targaryens down with him. Daemon would have to keep an eye out for any clues of a conspiracy against them in particular and just hope that he spotted something.
"My prince," a servant said as soon as he spotted him. Handing him a small note, he said, "from Princess Arianne."
"Nym and I were hoping you'd join us for a feast. She must be feeling ravenous because she said she wants to get truly stuffed."
Daemon just managed to stop himself from snorting at the innuendo and crumpled the small pieces of parchment up in his hand. He didn't even bother saying anything as he made his way back to his chambers, both because he knew that Ser Barristan wouldn't ask and because the man surely guessed that was where he'd go after receiving a note from his wife. Leaving the knight behind to guard the door, he wandered inside, only to pause in shock at what he found.
"Ah, Daemon," Arianne said, grinning at him as she spotted him. "I think I finally understand the appeal of having a cock."
Daemon just blinked as he took in the sight of his loving wife, who was standing there wearing nothing but a leather harness wrapped around her wide hips, from which protruded a large wooden cock. Nymeria was just as naked and on her knees, sucking the fake cock. The sounds of her gagging filled the air as she took it deep, repeatedly burying her nose in Arianne's dark curls.
"Who made this monstrosity?" Daemon asked, pouring himself a cup of wine.
"Both parts were made by craftsmen we freed from the Dothraki and brought with us," Arianne said. "I figured that it wouldn't be hard to get one of the bowyers to whittle down and polish a few wooden cocks like this discreetly while you were still in Essos, and a few days ago, Obara found a leather worker to put the harness together."
"Is this your first time using it?" Daemon asked.
"Mmhmm," Arianne replied. "I can't have sex for a while yet, so I decided to try fucking the others like this."
"Are you sure you're strong enough for that?" Daemon asked.
"According to Maester Marwyn, I'm recovering well," Arianne said. "I still have to take care with my cunt, but that aside, I should be fine."
Nymeria pulled back with a slight cough and said, "It's not like sucking the real thing."
"I imagine not," Arianne said. "It wouldn't throb on the tongue, and you wouldn't get the reactions you do from Daemon, but I must admit that I do like the visual of you on your knees, bobbing your head up and down on my cock."
She pulled Nymeria up and kissed her deeply, and Daemon felt his cock throb in his breeches at the sight. As the two beauties continued to kiss, he undressed, until he was just as nude as they were.
"So are we going to take turns fucking her throat while the other takes her from behind?" Daemon asked.
"Maybe later," Arianne said, grinning. "Before we try that, though, there's something else this little whore has been eager to try since you put the idea in her head."
Daemon's eyes widened, and he said, "you don't mean…"
"I haven't been able to get it out of my head," Nymeria purred. "The idea of being that full."
"I had her suck it to get it nice and wet for her cunt, but you'll need this," Arianne said, walking over to the cabinet behind her and retrieving a bottle of oil.
Daemon was so turned on that he didn't even laugh at how absurd she looked walking around with a large wooden cock bobbing about from where it was attached to her body.
"I want to watch you two first," Daemon said, sitting down in the nearest chair and taking a sip of his wine.
Arianne and Nymeria looked at each other and grinned at him. While the taller brunette lay down on the bed, spreading her long legs wide, Arianne handed him the bottle of oil and took a moment to compare the wooden cock to his throbbing length.
"It's a touch smaller, but very close," she remarked.
"We've spent enough time fucking, sucking, and downright worshiping that cock to recall its length and girth even after a few weeks without it," Nymeria purred.
"When we departed, I figured that you'd spend the moons while I was away making due with your fingers and tongues," Daemon said.
"We did at first," Arianne said as she walked over to Nymeria, "but after a while, we started missing that feeling of being stretched."
"It's...ahh!" Nymeria cried as Arianne pushed forward, burying most of the fake cock inside her in one thrust. "It's not as good as the real thing, but it helped while we waited for you to return to us."
"We just pushed it and the other ones in and out by hand before," Arianne said, thrusting away wildly. "Should have thought of this sooner."
"Slow down a bit," Daemon said. "You want to establish a steady pace first, then you can start trying different angles to find what works best."
"You'd know best," Arianne grunted.
She did as he instructed, and Nymeria's moans grew louder as Arianne started fucking her properly. His wife's gorgeous olive skin began to shine with sweat after a few minutes, and her breathing grew more rapid.
"Mmm, just like that," Nymeria sighed, wrapping her arms around Arianne and kissing her passionately.
"This is harder than I thought," Arianne groaned.
"Even Obara might find it challenging at first," Daemon said. "Fucking uses muscles that you don't use that way for much else."
"When we start fucking her together, I'm lying down," Arianne panted.
Nymeria flipped them over and grinned down at a wide-eyed Arianne, brushing her long, dark hair out of her face.
"That works for me," she purred, reaching down and cupping the other woman's large, full tits.
"You might not want her to already be inside you when I push my cock inside your arse," Daemon warned her.
He poured a good amount of oil into his hand and began spreading it over his entire turgid length. Coating his fingers with what remained on his hand, he walked over to the bed and grinned at the sight of Nymeria's taut nether lips stretched wide around Arianne's wooden cock. She lifted herself off of it and let it fall with a wet splat onto the other woman's belly. Her cunt fluttered around nothing, gaping slightly, but that wasn't the hole that Daemon was going to be stretching this time. Spreading some of the excess oil over her puckered little arsehole, he slipped one of his long, thick fingers inside with ease.
"Ugh!" Nymeria moaned. "Fuck my ass, Daemon."
"Such a little anal whore," Daemon whispered in her ear, making her shudder.
"You know I am," Nymeria whimpered as he pushed a second finger inside and started slowly pumping them in and out of her tightest hole.
The gorgeous brunette was very used to this kind and relaxed around his fingers quickly. He added a third before long, and once she felt sufficiently stretched around it as well, he pulled them out. Fisting his cock, he lined himself up with her winking arsehole and pushed forward. The head of his cock popped inside quickly.
"Oh gods!" Nymeria half-cooed-half-screamed. "Fuck, that feels good."
"Took the words right out of my mouth," Daemon grunted, loving the feeling of her tight ring clenching around him and the sheer heat of her insides.
"Fucking hells, I love your breasts," Arianne cooed, reaching up and cupping the firm mounds. "They might not be as large as mine, but I've never seen a better-shaped pair."
She craned her head up and wrapped her lips around one of the older woman's hard pink nipples, making her cry out. With Daemon slowly burying inch after inch of his punishingly thick cock inside her arse and Arianne kneading and worshiping her breasts, the palest sand snake could moan and cry out in bliss as pleasure coursed through her.
Daemon tightened his grip on her hips and pushed the last couple inches of his length inside her, holding still once his hips were flush against her tight little arse. There were some things in life that one just never got tired of, and for him, fucking a woman in the arse was one of them.
"Shit!" Nymeria gasped. "I swear, I still get surprised by just how fucking big you feel back there. I'm so full."
"You're about to be a whole lot fuller," Daemon grinned, leaning in to nibble on her earlobe. "Do you want to try it yet, Nym?"
"Fu...fuck me first for a few minutes," Nymeria replied. "Ari got me pretty close, and I don't think it'll take much to make me cum."
"As you wish," Daemon said, pulling most of his cock out of her sweltering depths and plunging back inside.
"Yes!" Nymeria shrieked, clawing at the sheets on either side of Arianne as Daemon started fucking her.
Arianne peeked around her head and smirked at Daemon, who cocked an eyebrow at her. She signaled for him to pull Nymeria back and shrugged. Moving his hands up from her hips to her sides, he pulled back against him, and Arianne sat up as they moved. His hips never faltered as he changed the position, and as his angle changed, she shrieked.
"Right there, fucking hells, right there!" Nymeria cried, her face turning red and her arsehole starting to flutter around his length as she soared towards her peak.
"You're so wet that you're dripping on me," Arianne purred, reaching down to rub little circles around Nymeria's clit.
The pale brunette cried out in pleasure, and Daemon started peppering her neck with kisses. Arianne moved to the other side began mirroring his actions as the other woman quivered in their arms.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Nymeria cried, sounding half out of her mind. "Don't stop. Gods, don't fucking STOP!"
She came hard, reduced instantly to a convulsing, shrieking wreck in their arms. Her cunt gushed all over the place, soaking Arianne and the bedding both as pleasure thundered through her. Daemon groaned as he felt her already tight insides start clenching hard around him, but he didn't stop for a moment, continuing to fuck the squealing woman hard and drawing out her pleasure as much as possible. As her orgasm finally ended, she collapsed downward, slick with sweat and panting hard.
"Never...fucking...tire of...that," she laughed as Arianne caressed her tenderly.
Daemon joined in as well, softly tracing his fingers over her bare back as he waited for her to come down from her high.
"Gods, I'm not going to sit right for a week," Nymeria giggled as she regained her breath.
"Luckily, you won't have to go to the Sept in a few hours," Daemon said.
"I'll probably just pass out," Nymeria said. "Having you in my ass is so intense. Half the reason I haven't been able to stop thinking about this is because I can't fathom what getting fucked in both holes at once is going to be like."
"Just say the word, and you'll find out," Arianne said, sounding just as eager as Nymeria was.
"Do it," Nymeria said, sounding just slightly nervous.
Daemon pulled her back against his chest and lifted her off Arianne enough to let her hold fake the cock upward. Carefully positioning Nymeria so that she was hovering above it, he waited, his cock still buried to the hilt inside her, as Arianne began using its tip to stroke Nymeria's soaked folds.
"Ari," Nymeria whined, making the shorter woman laugh.
Deciding that they had put things off enough, Arianne lined up the fake cock with Nymeria's dripping hole, and Daemon pushed her down onto it. She squeaked, her violet eyes going wide as she felt herself stretch beyond anything she'd known before.
"Holy shit," Daemon hissed, shocked at how she tightened even further around him.
He could also feel the fake cock against the underside of his length through the thin membrane that divided them, which was an odd but not unpleasant feeling.
"How's it feel?" Arianne asked as another couple inches slipped inside the other woman.
"Her arse is so much fucking tighter," Daemon groaned as Nymeria remained shocked into silence.
"By the fucking gods!" she finally cried out.
"That good?" Arianne asked, sounding deeply amused.
"So...full," Nymeria stammered, her entire body shaking.
Daemon held still, unwilling to move at all, until the last inches of the fake cock had been pushed inside her. Once it was in, the three of them just rested together, Nymeria panting and shivering in their arms. Daemon had never felt a tighter hole and found himself wishing that they had thought of this ages ago.
"That has to be the limit," Nymeria whimpered. "There's no fucking way I could stretch any further."
"I don't know; we could try a fist in your cunt," Arianne smirked.
"Shut the fuck up," Nymeria replied, making the other woman burst out laughing.
"Ah, does that mean I won't be able to stroke Daemon's cock through you?" Arianne complained, almost managing to sound serious. "Seriously, though, does this hurt at all?"
"Kind of," Nymeria replied. "It's mostly just really, really intense."
"Just let us know when we can move," Daemon said. "This is a first for you, so don't try to rush it."
"No, you can move," Nymeria said, shaking her head.
"You're sure?" Arianne asked.
"Fuck me," Nymeria moaned.
"Ari, hold still for a bit," Daemon said as he started easing his cock out of her tight little arse. "I'll start fucking her first, and then, when I say to, I want you to start pulling out when I thrust in, and vice versa."
"Alright," Arianne said.
Daemon slowly started fucking her again, not wanting to go particularly hard or fast until he was sure that she could take it. Even still, Nymeria grunted and whimpered with every thrust, her body already seemingly wound tight.
"Gods, that feels so fucking good," she cried.
"Now, Ari," Daemon said as he thrust inside Nymeria.
Arianne pulled back, easing a few inches of the fake cock out of the other woman's cunt, and then tried to thrust back inside as Daemon was pulling out again. It took them a few attempts to get it right, but soon enough, they were working in tandem, fucking the gorgeous brunette in their arms.
"Harder, harder!" Nymeria screamed. "Fucking gods, I love this!"
"You love having two cocks stuffing your tight little holes to their limit?" Arianne purred.
"Yes!" Nymeria screamed.
"Fucking hells," Daemon groaned, unsure of how long he was going to last. This was new to him, and the combination of her almost painfully tight arsehole milking his cock and the other probing length rubbing against it through her walls was incredible. "Rub her clit, my love."
"Do you think she'd been a good enough girl?" Arianne asked, smirking at Nymeria, who looked like she was about to burst.
"Do it, please!" Nymeria screamed. "I'm so close, so fucking close."
"I am too," Daemon groaned.
"Make me cum; please make me cum," Nymeria begged. When Daemon changed his angle slightly and started hitting a spot deep inside her, she almost deafened him, squealing, "YES!"
Daemon let go with a roar as her tight little arsehole started spasming around his length, painting her inside white. Nymeria shook and convulsed, falling into Arianne's arms as she came harder than she ever had in her life. She squirted again, flooding the bed beneath them as she continued to scream in absolute ecstasy. The two of them fell forward, and Arianne cried out.
"Get off!" she grunted, and Daemon had barely enough presence of mind to manage to roll the three of them onto their sides.
Arianne pulled the fake cock from Nymeria's still-twitching cunt and rolled onto her back. Looking over, she saw Daemon wrap an arm around a passed-out Nymeria, and she chuckled. She sat up, removed the harness, and set it aside before getting up to pour a cup of water for her husband.
"You're amazing," Daemon groaned, pulling his softening length from Nymeria's arsehole and accepting the cup.
"I'll get her one when she wakes up," Arianne said. "I somehow suspect that her legs aren't going to work very well."
Daemon laughed at that and eagerly drank the water.
"I know we can't fuck, but you must be dripping wet," he said. "Can I seriously not even devour that sweet little cunt of yours?"
"The maesters said to avoid everything for a few weeks," Arianne sighed.
"Damn," Daemon said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her deeply. Kissing her forehead, he said, "I'll make it up to you when I can."
"I know you will," Arianne said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Now, we should get cleaned up before the service."
"I wouldn't be the first man to walk into a sept with his cock covered in oil and smelling of arse," Daemon snarked, "and at least I wouldn't be leading the congregation in prayer."
Arianne laughed at that and said, "If you bathe first, you'll get to join me in a tub."
"Well, when you put it like that…" Daemon grinned.
"By the gods," Nymeria gasped.
"Welcome back," Arianne smirked, going to get the other woman a cup of water.
"Not for a while, certainly, but please tell me we're going to do that again," Nymeria said.
"Definitely," Daemon replied, kissing her softly.
Daemon had never liked septs. As a boy, he found septon's sermons tedious and annoying, and once he'd moved to Winterfell, though they had one now, his aunt's attempts to bring him with her had resulted in complaints that eventually convinced his uncle to intervene. He'd found the faith of the old gods to be much more to his liking, lacking as it was in the speeches of long-winded old men. As he'd grown older, he'd come to appreciate it more for actual religious reasons, and he felt far more spiritually at home, letting his mind go silent as he sat before a wyrewood tree than in a sept, but his thoughts on the matter simply didn't matter just then.
The Sept of Baelor was just as large and gaudy as he remembered and as he walked in with his family. He had to admit that the architecture was impressive, and the dome that served as the centerpiece of the roof was the largest he had ever seen. The main chamber was packed, but no one said a word and indeed, everyone seemed to be waiting with baited breath for the festivities to begin. The royal family made their way up to the private viewing area reserved for them, as much a kindness to them as to the other worshipers, who didn't have to deal with the multitude of guards they were surrounded by.
"How are you feeling?" Daemon asked Arianne quietly.
"Fine, good," Arianne said. "I'm tired, but that's all."
He smiled at her as his father sat down and the rest of them quickly followed.
"The High Septon has arrived, yes?" Daemon asked quietly.
"He has," Rhaegar said. "That's him down there between the alters to the Father and the Mother."
The man Rhaegar pointed out was a thin man dressed in robes so plain they had more in common with rags than what he remembered the previous high septon wearing.
"Not one for luxury," Viserys commented.
"No, when I met him earlier, he seemed remarkably unlike both of the others I've met as king," Rhaegar said.
"The Most Devout must have had a reason for choosing him," Elia said.
As the High Septon stepped forward and held out his arms, everyone among the congregation stood up, and as his family followed suit, Daemon did as well.
"In the name of the Seven, our Gods, who reign in the heavens and by whose will we were made, we hold most sacred and holy this day which they have given us," he said. "Let us begin with a profession of our faith. I believe in the Father Above, whose judgment we will all face…"
Everyone else joined in on the memorized spiel, which Daemon had long since forgotten, and he just sat there in silence, lamenting the fact that he had to take part in it at all. The profession of faith was followed by a lengthy hymn sung primarily by the choir assembled to the side of the High Septon, after which a couple of verses from the Seven-Pointed Star were read by other members of the clergy. The High Septon himself then read another verse, after which they were all finally able to sit down.
"When the Seven crowned Hugor of the Hill, it was out of love for their people that they did so," the High Septon said. "They said to those lucky few among whom they walked that they were their chosen flock and that they would carry their faith to the ends of all creation before the end. They were promised a new land, a golden land amidst towering mountains. To get there, though, they would have to seek it, take it, and then only through their faith would they thrive."
He paused then, turning to face the alter and statue of the Father.
"The Father placed the crown of stars upon Hugor's head because he was a man who exhibited the qualities that a leader should possess," he continued. "He had faith and paid tribute to the gods; he cared for and led his people as any leader should, and he placed the wishes of the gods above all else. Did that mean that he was without sin? Did that mean that he never faltered at all? No, of course it didn't. He was a man, and as Septon Barth once wrote, there is good and evil in us all, kindness and cruelty, strength and weakness. When he faltered, he prostrated himself before the gods and paid penance for his sins. How many lords today could be said to be like Hugor?"
He paused, though he certainly did not expect a reply.
"Hugor led his people as a good and pious man, and so they thrived," the High Septon continued. "They thrived so greatly that when the time came for them to seek out the golden land that had been promised to them, they were able to take it and realize the promises of the gods. When we are led by good and pious men, we thrive under their leadership, but when we are led by the wicked and the sinful, calamity is sure to follow."
Daemon had largely been tuning out the droning arsehole, when a light flashed across his eyes. He blinked, wondering what in the hells that was when it hit him again. Glaring down towards the main chamber of the sept as he tried to spot where that was coming from, he eventually spotted a dark-haired woman, subtlely twisting her hand to and fro under the light and reflecting it towards him. As he caught her eye, he recognized her, and she signaled for him to follow her. Seated towards the perimeter of the sept, no one noticed as she got out of her seat and left, focused as they were on the High Septon.
"Asha," he thought to himself as he stood up.
"Daemon," Rhaegar hissed.
Leaning in, Daemon said, "I'm sure the gods would rather I relieve myself outside than in."
Viserys snickered, but no one else said anything.
"Fine, just be quick," Rhaegar said.
Gesturing to Ser Barristan, he slipped outside, quickly followed by his most frequent shadow. The spiral staircase leading to the royal viewing area was purposefully out of the way and Daemon was able to slip out unseen by anyone other than the guards outside it.
"Come out," Daemon called once he was outside.
"My prince?" Ser Barristan asked.
"Did you listen to any of that?" Asha asked.
"You?!" Ser Barristan snarled, his hand flying to the pommel of his sword.
"Stand down," Daemon said calmly. "Barely. Why?"
"He was about to launch into his material that really hits the nobles hard," Asha said.
"What?" Daemon asked.
"The High Septon in there is the septon I was trying to warn you about yesterday," Asha replied.
"That's impossible," Ser Barristan said. "The sort of rabble rouser you described last night is the last sort of person that the Most Devout would choose for the role."
"Oh, it wasn't a popular decision," Asha said. "Apparently there were a few other candidates they had in mind, but each one was disgraced just before the selection process started. One was caught abed with twin whores, while another apparently got so drunk that he stumbled blindly through the streets naked. I figure that the high cunt's supporters helped that one disgrace himself. By the time they all voted, there was only one candidate left."
"How do you know all of this?" Daemon asked.
"I've been...let's say, transporting goods between King's Landing and Oldtown," Asha replied.
"Smuggling, you mean," Ser Barristan said dryly.
Asha didn't reply to that, instead saying, "I was able to catch one of his sermons here several weeks ago and happened to be in Oldtown while the conclave was meeting. That High Septon might not be too popular with the higher-ups in the Faith, but he does have a fair following among the small folk."
"How many followers does he have?" Daemon asked.
"No clue," Asha replied, "but they seem to be pretty fucking dedicated. Call themselves sparrows."
"What?" Daemon asked, the word recalling a memory.
"Sparrows," Asha repeated. "You faith of the seven types all get off on trying to claim that you're meek and humble. Sparrows are tiny birds, and they seem to like the imagery."
Daemon didn't even think to correct her about his connection to the faith, too busy turning pale as he recalled what he'd found in the secret passage inside Varys' room in the keep.
Edric rushed up the stairs and was already holding it up just outside the small window right by the entrance by the time Daemon joined him. Looking down at the small brown piece of wax, he saw that it was indeed a seal, one that had presumably been ripped off of a letter by mistake, given the tiny bit of parchment sticking to it.
"It's not like any of the seals I know," Edric said, turning it around in his hand as he tried to figure out what it was. "It looks like a small bird. Do you know what it could signify?"
"No idea," Daemon replied as he continued staring at the seal. "No idea at all."
It wasn't definitive proof that the eunuch and this High Septon were connected, but if there was any chance that that was the case, it could end up being a catastrophe. Having the leader of the most popular faith in Westeros in the pocket of an avowed enemy of the crown was something that he never would have thought possible, and he had no idea how to go about dealing with it if it turned out to be the case. The last time the faith and the crown had gone to war, Balerion had been there to help put them down. Without that kind of firepower, it wasn't a battle that he wanted under any circumstances.
"Fuck," Daemon muttered to himself.