Dorne: 284 AC: 2 Days Later:
Bonifer and his Holy Hundred trundled through the Dornish sands. In the distance, Sunspear stood like a beacon of respite from the harsh desert heat and hot sands. Bonifer had worried their tall-grey Geldings would struggle to deal with the heat, but by the grace of the Gods, they all made it through unharmed. However, the heat did mar the heavily armed men of the Holy Hundred, as even the most stoic of them grumbled and complained throughout their journey through Dorne. Bonifer even had to discourage one or two of them from going their own way as they struggled to see the point of enduring the hardship to make it to an exiled monarch they hadn't even met.
The party drew closer and closer to Sunspear, and Bonifer was in awe at the splendor that entered his eyesight. Even from this distance, he could see the mighty spires that rose out of the palace of Sunspear, their golden domes glinting softly in the setting sun. The Rhoynish style of architecture was stunning to him, and he wagered that there was nothing else like it in the Seven Kingdoms.
After another hour, they arrived at the gates of the Shadow City. Bonifer had never been here before, and he worried that he might get lost in the town's winding streets and dark alleys. Furthermore, he had no inclination as to where the docks may be. Not that it mattered right now, as the guards at the gates had grounded Bonifer and his Holy Hundred to a halt. Bonifer silently chuckled to himself, as the guards looked incredibly concerned at the sight of a hundred dusty men at arms turning up at their gates.
"Who are you and what is your business here?" One of the guards asked, his thick Dornish accent coming through the yellow cloth he had wrapped around his head and mouth.
"I am Ser Bonifer Hasty. Myself and my Holy Hundred simply seek passage to Essos, my friend," Bonifer replied, smiling warmly to ease the guards' nerves.
The guard looked behind the holy knight at the long forming line of men at arms and their banner which blew gently in the wind, before looking back at Bonifer with black narrowed eyes. "Essos, you say? Are you a sellsword company?" He asked.
"I suppose you could say that, yes," Bonifer assured, his soft smile still present.
"Very well. Pass through quickly and quietly." The guard sighed, as he stepped aside.
What Bonifer hadn't noticed was that the other guard at the gate had silently slipped away into the city. Regardless, Bonifer smiled at the guard and waved behind him to signal to his men to follow him. They all rode through the city in a single column, and Bonifer felt that the Shadow City had earned its name well. There was hardly a sound to be heard and the buildings were all windowless hovels that looked abandoned and empty. Bonifer had always pictured this place to be something magnificent and exotic, much like the Martells themselves. However, he was slightly disappointed in what was present before him.
After some time on the main brick road of the Shadow City, Bonifer and his men had found themselves at the docks of Sunspear. They were much smaller than what he had anticipated but after seeing the Shadow City, he felt he should lower his expectations. Regardless, there were ships aplenty and he could see men and sailors working tirelessly upon them. His eyes were drawn to the largest ship of them all. Its sails were hiding within the rafters of its mast, yet it did little to hide how large they were in comparison to everything else. If he were a betting man, he would wager that it was the private ship for the Prince of Dorne and his family.
Bonifer then wandered the docks, looking for anyone who could see to him and his men's passage to Essos. Bonifer eventually came upon a man with the largest ship on the docks, though it paled in comparison to the ships of House Martell. The aging ship's Captain assured Bonifer that he could carry only thirty of his men at a time, including their horses. Bonifer expected such difficulties to occur but knew he had to send his men to Essos in waves at a time. They did not have enough money to buy another ship, as they had spent what they had taken from the bandit camp on supplies for the journey through Dorne.
Giving every last coin to the cheerful Captain, Bonifer had his men begin loading onto the ship. As his men followed his orders, Bonifer noticed a large group of Dornish guards come his way. He saw the large man who led them whose enormous long axe struck a small sense of fear into the usually unwavering knight. Bonifer's men had also begun to take notice, and some had dismounted their horses to form a small line in front of the incoming guards.
"Easy lads, keep your blades sheathed." Bonifer eased, as he moved in front of his firmly standing men. Bonifer turned to face the approaching men, as his eyes were drawn to the much smaller man who stepped out from behind the one wielding the long axe. His face held a devilish smirk as his viper eyes scanned Bonifer and his men with what seemed like malicious intent. His body was clad in light leather armor and in his right hand, he held a long spear with a blade that looked like it had been soaked in water.
Bonifers heart stilled as the man approached them, his deep black eyes watching almost everyone. "I had not expected to see the Holy Hundred arrive on my doorstep." The man chuckled, yet his laughter hid something much more sinister.
"I take it you are a Martell?" Bonifer asked, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.
"I am Prince Oberyn Martell, Ser..."
"Bonifer."
"Yes, Ser Bonifer, sworn to Stannis Baratheon if I remember correctly."
"Well, yes, we-"
Oberyn held his hand up, stopping Bonifer from talking as the Viper's guards took up positions behind their Prince. "And why is Stannis sending you to Essos?" He asked.
Bonifer struggled to come up with a decent answer, as he worried that if he told Oberyn the truth, he would have arrested them for treason against the Crown or worse, killed them. Taking a deep breath, Bonifer decided to tell the truth and take his chances with the Martells, as knowing their recent history with the crown, he hoped they would be somewhat lenient.
"I am not going on Stannis' orders, Prince Oberyn." Bonifer clarified, his hand on the hilt of his sword tightening.
Oberyn's smirk disappeared as a curious look came across his features. "Then why are you going?"
"For love, I suppose." Bonifer sighed.
"For love? Intriguing. Tell me, Ser, who or what is this love?"
"Rhaella Targaryen."
Oberyn's eyes widened at the word of Bonifer as a small smile came across his face. Perhaps, Rhaella had been busy after all, he mused. "I see," Oberyn spoke, feigning indifference. "Well, I am sorry for keeping you for so long, Ser Bonifer. Please, be on your way."
Bonifer shook his head in confusion at Oberyns indifference at it all. It became clear to Bonifer at that moment that the wounds from the rebellion had cut much deeper than he initially thought if Oberyn was so willing to let him and his Holy Hundred go and support the Crown's enemies so easily. As he mused, Oberyn spoke up once again.
"You can use my ships, it wouldn't do to have you ferry your men back and forth with just one ship, no?" The Viper chuckled, as he handed his spear off to some of his guards behind him.
"I...thank you, Prince Oberyn, I must say this is most unexpected of you."
"Ah, think nothing of it. I don't want to see a man as pious as you hindered in any way." Oberyn smiled, as the large man wielding the long axe signaled for all of the guards to make their way back to their posts. The large group behind Oberyn began to disperse, yet Oberyn remained standing in front of Bonifer, who looked at the Prince incredulously. Oberyn took a step closer to Bonifer so that they were inches away from each other's faces, and Bonifer could see the deep darkness in the Red Viper's eyes as well as a tinge of madness.
"Give my regards to our Queen, Bonifer. Let them know that Dorne is still with them." Oberyn whispered.
"I...I will, Prince Oberyn. By the Gods, I will."
Oberyn smiled at the knight before him and gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder. He said his goodbyes to Bonifer and made his way from the docks, all the while whistling a tune as he walked. Bonifer's men stood still watching the eccentric man almost skip away, as some of them gave concerned looks to their commander who looked just as confused as they were.
After rubbing his eyes, Bonifer gave the order for all his men to board the ships they were most graciously granted by Oberyn, and before long, all a hundred men had managed to board three ships. The larger ships owned by Oberyn even allowed them to bring some of their horses with them, though not all of them as some of the Holy Hundred had to give them away to passing merchants and dockworkers to be able to travel. Bonifer had promised those men that he would pay for new ones when in Essos.
At last, they had set sail for Pentos. The seagulls squawked loudly around the mast of their ship as they began to pull away from the docks. Bonifer took in the awe-inspiring sight of the large orange sail that had the sun and spear of House Martell branded upon it. It looked very majestic and he wondered if this is what most royalty would feel like when they travel.
Bonifer could hardly wait to see the city but most of all he could hardly wait to see his love, Rhaella. He wondered what she looked like and if she was still as beautiful as the Maiden herself. He closed his eyes and he could see her silver hair hanging low past her shoulders and blowing gracefully in the wind as it did all those years ago when he was tourney knight. He also mused on the possibility of meeting the Sword of the Morning, as even the lowliest of peasants had by now heard that he was with the Targaryens. The thought excited him until he returned to reality and steeled himself for the challenges.
Winterfell: 284 AC: The Same Day:
Benjen had begun to grow accustomed to being home once more. He had to admit to himself that he truly did miss the great towers of Winterfell and the warmth of the great hall that he now stood in. He could feel the hot springs it was built upon filling the air around him, and for a brief moment, he felt like a child again, wandering the halls of Winterfell with Lyanna and Eddard as they played together.
However, he did not miss all of the politics that came with being here. Especially after being sworn in as Robb's regent, next to Catelyn and Brynden. When he initially arrived here, Catelyn had told him that some of the Northern Lords had begun to grow discontent with two Southrons ruling the North through an adolescent Robb Stark. As it turns out, some of the bolder Lords from House Karstark and House Glover had even written to Catelyn demanding that Benjen be brought home to become Regent, or they may have her and Brynden expelled from Winterfell itself and leave someone from the North to raise the Stark boy.
Benjen had wished that Catelyn had told him this in her letters to him when he was at the Wall, but she foolishly felt that the Northern Lords would never act upon such threats. Clearly, she had no idea how much the Northerners stuck true to their word, and Benjen had brought this up to her multiple times in their frequent arguments. As Benjen continued his musings, he was interrupted by the arrival of the Blackfish, Brynden Tully.
"Lord Benjen," Brynden nodded, as he walked to the side of Benjen. His light auburn hair had begun to turn grey as it held a shaggy appearance. His features looked tired and worn as it seemed the ruling of Winterfell had started to take its toll on the man. However, Benjen knew that the Blackfish would never give in as he was never without resolve.
"Ser Brynden, I am happy to see you." Benjen nodded back toward the Blackfish.
"I take it you're settling in well, Benjen."
"There was nothing to settle into, Brynden. This place has been my home all of my life."
"Aye, that's true. I tell you, I did not expect it to be so cold when I first came here."
"It is called Winterfell for a reason, Brynden."
"True enough, Benjen. Tell me, have you spoken to Cat recently?"
"Only a handful of times outside of our arguments," Benjen recalled. Ever since arriving at Winterfell, Catelyn has been ferociously protective of Robb, to the point that she and Benjen had argued about it to the dismay of Brynden.
"Aye, she is watchful of her only son." Brynden sighed.
"The boy is a Stark and he needs a Stark to watch over him, not some Riverlander who without me being here, would've brought the whole North down on both of your heads." Benjen fumed, noticing the upset look on Brynden's face.
"Do not forget, Benjen, I am a Tully too." Brynden reminded.
Benjen rubbed his temples with his calloused hands before letting out a heavy sigh. "I apologise, Brynden. I find the matter of ruling beginning to take its toll upon me."
"It's alright, Benjen. Men in positions of power such as ourselves are prone to outbursts, I suppose."
"I often wonder how my father and brother ever coped with it all," Benjen smirked, as his mind was filled with the memories of being a child once more.
"Some men are born for it. Others are molded by it. Most are broken." Brynden said cryptically.
"What do you mean?" Benjen asked, a singular eyebrow raising as Brynden began to walk around the great hall.
"Well, look at Aerys for instance. Power corrupted him and turned him mad. Or you could look at great men such as Aegon the Unlikely, a man who did his best despite not ever expecting to be King."
"What is your point, Brynden?"
"My point is, we cannot be like Aerys. We must become better men for that boy despite his mother lest House Stark falls into further despair."
"So be like Aegon? The same man that nearly wiped his house out?" Benjen questioned.
"I suppose, but most of all Benjen, be a Stark. Make sure that boy grows up knowing he is a Stark and what that means."
With those words, Byrnden laid a gentle pat on the shoulder of Benjen before leaving him to his thoughts in the great hall of Winterfell. Bnejen stood there a moment thinking over the words that Brynden had told him. His head felt as clear as ever as he realized what the Blackfish was telling him. He would raise Robb as a true Northman, and he would show him what he stood to inherit in House Stark. Benjen resolved himself to lead his house back to its former glory before Arthur Dayne laid Eddard Stark low at that desolate tower.
Driftmark: 284 AC: 1 Week Later:
Varys stood alone in the crowd at the port town of Hull. The grey clouds did little to lift his spirit as the soft rain spattered on his damp deep red cloak and hood. Rising high into the melancholy clouds, Castle Driftmark stood unwavering in the salty wind. Varys looked over its depressing exterior, its dark salt-stained walls dipping softly into the sea. The place was grim and Varys often wondered why he even bothered coming here in the first place.
Of course, it was to try and raise support for the boy King in Essos, and sending word to Monford Velaryon that they should meet discreetly had not been easy, yet he felt his efforts would have been better spent raising the ever-grasping Tyrells in support of Aemon. At least they have an army that can actually do something, he mused. Nevertheless, Varys waited patiently in their predetermined meeting spot. It was a quiet enough place, as they were surrounded by ramshackle walls and dim light that came from the nearby soaked wooden buildings.
The Spider waited patiently for Monford as his thoughts turned to the youthful Lord of Driftmark. Varys had done his studies on the man as had his little birds, and he found a well-kept secret that he is the son of the late Lucerys Velaryon, the same man who profited so much from the madness of Aerys and even managed to turn the Mad King against Rhaegar. These facts made Varys slightly dubious in dealing with the old Lord of the Tide's son, yet he felt he had to take the risk. They were of the blood of Old Valyria after all.
Another hour crawled by as Varys began to grow impatient and more cautious. He wondered if Monford had sold him out to gain favor with Robert and his ilk, becoming a snake much like his father was not too long ago. His fears were quenched, however, as Monford's unmistakable appearance came around the dark corner into the alley that they both now found themselves in. Despite his head and body being covered in a large brown cloak, Varys could see the long fair hair of Monford dangling beneath the hood, as his chiseled features contoured themselves against the shadows. Varys mused that a man as handsome as he was would have a difficult time being inconspicuous.
Monford slowly approached Varys, who stood silent with a comforting smile on his face whereas Monford looked anything but comfortable. "Lord Varys," Monford mumbled, as he took his position up across from Varys.
"Lord Monford, a pleasure to meet you," Varys smiled as he bowed his head slightly. He tucked his hands into his sleeves to show Monford that he was not here to do him any harm and to help put him at ease.
"Likewise. Before we begin, I do not see why we had to meet like this." Monford shivered, as he held his cloak tightly to him.
"I'm afraid with things being the way they are in King's Landing, my Lord, it was necessary for us to meet like this without drawing any...interest from unwanted eyes."
"Fine, fine, I read your letter as you know, and I wish to know what it is that is so urgent and a grave matter of life and death, that we had to meet here?"
Varys had to do his best to stop the smirk from appearing on his face at Monford's repetition of the embellished words that Varys used in his writing. "There are bigger things happening around the Seven Kingdoms, my Lord, and I wish to make you a part of them."
Monford looked incredulously at Varys and wondered what game the legendary Spider was up to this time. "What do you mean by 'bigger things'?"
"Robert's rule is not popular, and unrest continues to grow in the short time he has occupied the throne. I ask you, Lord Monford, have you felt the grip of Robert around your neck? Has Jon Arryn targeted your prestigious house for your role in the rebellion?"
Monford stood silent a moment. The young man remembered very clearly the hardship and scorn his house faced from Robert and his underlings as being the next biggest house with the blood of Old Valyria, allowed Robert to target them unfavorably as he did all those who supported the Dragons.
"Of course I do, but what is the alternative? Last I heard Viserys and Rhaella were far away in Essos somewhere and no one else has a truer claim to the throne than Robert." Monford sighed, as he glanced around at his surroundings.
"They are much closer at hand than you think, Monford. Besides, the King is not Viserys." Varys smirked.
"What do you mean, Varys?"
"Rhaegar had a son with the late Lyanna Stark. A boy, who is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms."
Monford's eyes widened as he recalled the tales and stories he had heard of that fateful day. "A bastard child of rape no doubt." He eventually spat.
"Do you really think I would come all this way to your shithole of an island if the boy wasn't trueborn, hm? Do you think Dorne would support him if they believed that he was what you think he is?" Varys questioned, fighting back the anger in his voice upon hearing the venomous lie of Aemon's birth once more.
"I am not convinced, Eunuch. For all I know you could be setting me up."
"Is that so? Let me ask you, Monford. Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy, and now Jaime Lannister all rally around him, giving him their swords and unconditional support."
Monfords eyes narrowed upon hearing the mention of Jaime Lannisters name. The fact he fled from his life of luxury to go and support the Targaryens only added to their legitimacy, Monford mused. The conflict within him began to show on his face as Varys watched onward, anticipating an answer.
"Fine, what is it you want from me?" Monford eventually sighed, glancing around his shoulders as he did so.
"Your support. You are the biggest house on the Narrow Sea, and your mastery of ships and control of the shipping lanes is most useful."
"You're asking me to support a King I have never met, Varys. Besides, the risks involved are endless."
"I am well aware of the risks, Monford, very well aware, but for the sake of the Realm, we must depose that drunkard who sits on the throne lest we all suffer under him."
Monford shook his head in disbelief, as he couldn't fathom why he was going along with Varys' mad schemes and plots. "What is in it for me?" He asked, eyeing Varys up and down.
"Think of it, Monford. Placing my King on the throne will ensure your house returns to its former glory, as the rulers of the Narrow Sea, as House Velaryon has always been under the rule of the Targaryens. I don't even have to mention you both share the same heritage either."
Monford let out a heavy sigh as he knew Varys was right. If he supported this exiled King and when the time came to install him on the throne with his backing, his influence would be unparalleled. "Very well, Varys. When do we act?"
"Oh, not for years yet, my Lord. For now, focus on rebuilding your forces and fleet." Varys smirked, happy he was able to convince the young and pliable Lord.
"What about Robert? Won't he become suspicious?" Monford asked.
"You have shipping lanes to protect, no? Pirates to kill and maidens to rescue from their ships?"
Monford rolled his eyes at Varys' sarcasm. "Very well. When will I know to act?"
"I will send for you, Monford. Well, either me or the King." Varys smirked.
Monford gave the Spider no answer and only gave him a firm nod as he skulked back into the shadows. Monford made his way from that damp alley where they had just held their clandestine meeting, hoping to find warmer and more comfortable pastures in Castle Driftmark. As he walked, he pondered on what he had just agreed to and what great game he was now a pawn in. For all his hopes now rested on the shoulders of Eunuch and a boy King who he had never met. He would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all if it wasn't for the fact that failure wasn't an option for him now, lest his house fall for true this time.
Pentos: 284 AC: The Same Day:
The midday sun beamed down on all the people gathered in the courtyard, as the plants and trees danced softly with the breeze that came from the sky spattered with the presence of soft white clouds. Jaime stood with his arms folded across his chest as he watched on in awe at the scene that was unfolding in front of him whereas Arthur beside him held a more proud expression on his face. When Arthur had first told them all of the dragon hatching, Jaime immediately felt he was playing a jape upon them all, until he saw it for himself.
Its deep red body and wings soared gracefully through the air as it made its way around them all in a circle. In the short time it had been alive, it had already grown to the size of a large dog, and Jaime often wondered how big they could truly grow. He had of course seen the skulls of the largest of the Targaryen dragons back in Kings Landing, but that was only its head. He imagined the whole thing would be much more intimidating.
Pulling himself from his musings, Jaime looked over to Illyrio and Barristan who seemed to be deep in conversation. Perhaps Barristan was still trying to convince the fat Magister that having a dragon in his home was a good thing, which Illyrio had a hard time believing. He smirked as he could see the Magister coming around to the idea as Illyrio watched the dragon land by the feet of Rhaella, who stood happily in the middle of them all.
"Well, my friends? Isn't he just magnificent?" Rhaella chirped, her beautiful smile almost entrancing them all.
"Is he breathing fire yet, my Queen?" Illyrio asked. Jaime had noticed how the Magister had become much more subservient ever since learning of the dragons' hatching. Even powerful men such as him bowed to the might of the dragon, mused Jaime.
"No, I haven't been able to make him do so just yet, Illyrio. It seems he likes his meals raw too, as he doesn't char the meat like the dragons from the past that I've read about." Rhaella sighed.
"Well, I suppose he won't be burning down my home anytime soon." Illyrio nervously chuckled.
Vēdros looked up toward Rhaella as if he was smiling mischievously. The dragon chirped at her and took flight once more, flying around the rooftops and upper balconies of the manse. Rhaella looked on with wonder as she always did, her smile beaming for all to see. As she watched her dragon saor through the air, Viserys came running out of the manse towards her, tears streaming down his delicate face, as Ser Willem trailed behind him. Jaime watched on as Arthur instinctively reached for Dawn on his back as the Sword of the Morning approached the crying boy.
Jaime moved closer to listen to what was ailing the young Prince. "Mother...I've tried everything that you told me but it won't hatch!" Viserys sniffled. Ever since learning of the dragon, the boy had become nearly obsessed with hatching his own egg which seemingly had no luck. Jaime felt some sympathy for the boy as he watched the tears fall down his face.
"I am sorry for disturbing you, my Queen, but he came running out of his chambers in tears." Willem breathlessly explained, as if he had just finished running after Vierys.
Rhaella gave a small smile to Willem and waved a hand to Arthur, inaudible telling him to put his blade away as she crouched down and held her son close to her chest. She placed a soft kiss on his head and stroked his silver hair. "It will happen, Viserys, it just takes time." She whispered.
"But why, mother? I don't understand why it won't happen?" Viserys mumbled back, fighting down his tears.
"It is different for us all, Viserys, it will only hath when the time is right, but keep doing what I tell you, yes?"
Viserys pulled away from his mother and offered an understanding nod before leaving for his quarters to once more try to do the seemingly impossible and hatch another dragon. Willem followed behind after giving each of the knights a small smile and nod to which they all reciprocated. Unbeknownst to them all, Vēdros watched on from the top of one of the rooftops, his amber eyes almost narrowing upon hearing Viserys' displeasure at failing to hatch one of his brothers.
Vēdros flew around the manse, as he searched for higher ground to perch upon. He chirped and made his nest in one of the taller towers that was connected to Illyrio's manse. He observed his surroundings as if to get a lay of this new land he found himself in, his amber eyes flickering and scanning all the while. His attention soon turned to the large column that was making its way through the streets close to the Manse.
The dragon impulsively flew to Rhaella's location in the courtyard and was there within moments. She looked down at Vēdros and grew concerned by his incessant chirping as the dragon seemed to look to the manse's gate that lay just mere footsteps away. Arthur and the other knights took notice of the dragon's warnings and where he was looking. Jaime wondered if Robert had grown the balls to once more send assassins, such is his way.
"My Queen, I think we should get you inside," Arthur advised, as he drew Dawn from the sheath on his back.
"Oh...Yes, of course, Arthur." Rhaella replied, her attention completely on her dragon. "Vēdros, naejot nyke." She said in Valyrian as the dragon began to follow her into the manse. Arthur watched as Illyrio begrudgingly followed her, whilst cursing under his breath about another attack on his manse. The Sword of the Morning turned to Barristan and Jaime, who both stood stoically with their swords already unsheathed and ready to taste blood once more.
"Looks like we must do our duty once more, brothers." Arthur smiled.
Arthur looked at Barristan who had a bemused look on his face as he looked at the gate. Arthur narrowed his eyes and turned around to see a banner emblazoned with the Seven-Pointed Star just beyond the gate, as a large mass of armed men followed behind it. Next to the man holding the holy banner, stood a tall thin man, whose face was one of wonder and curiosity, as if he was seeking something or someone.
"Is that...Is that Bonifer Hasty?" Barristan pondered aloud, as the men drew closer to the gates. "Jaime, go and fetch the Queen, please," Barristan ordered to which Jaime immediately complied.
Jaime sheathed his sword and made his way into the manse, racing towards Rhaella's chambers. He passed alerted guards and servants who seemed to be expecting the worst when they saw the young lion rushing his way through the hallways and corridors. He eventually arrived at the Queen's chambers, which were being guarded by a Targaryen household guard and Ser Richard Lonmouth, the dark-haired knight looking at Jaime incredulously.
"Ser Jaime? Has something happened to Arthur and Barristan?" Richard asked, his eyes full of concern.
"What? No, no, Ser Bonifer Hasty is here with his men, there is no cause for alarm as it turns out." Jaime explained to Richard as he opened the door to the chambers. He found Rhaella sitting in the corner of the room with Daenerys sleeping soundly in her arms, as her dragon jealously guarded her against any that would intrude. Willem looked upon Jaime as he entered, his large frame standing in front of Aemon who looked past Willem at the golden-haired knight who had just entered their chambers. Even Viserys, who sat next to Illyrio gave a concerned look to Jaime as if wondering if his greatest heroes had just fallen in battle.
"My Queen, Magister." Jaime nodded. "It seems our concerns were for naught as Ser Bonifer Hasty has arrived," Jaime announced.
Rhaella said nothing as she immediately stood up and walked from the room with Daenerys still in her arms as Vēdros followed swiftly behind. Illyrio let out a heavy sigh as he struggled to stand from his chair, as he too, made his way back to the courtyard. Jaime looked to Willem who told him he would stay with the King to which Jaime gave a heartfelt thank you.
Jaime made his way from the room, telling Richard to follow him. On their way, the two men shared a small jest over their concern for the well-being of their charges becoming unfounded. Silently, however, Jaime felt that it was always good practice to be ready no matter what the circumstance as they can never know when Robert may send another set of lackeys to do his work for him.
After mere moments, Jaime and Richard arrived at the courtyard to see a happy reunion play out before them both. Jaime looked on as Rhaella and Bonifer shared a deep hug whilst Arthur and Barristan sat in the shade of the trees with Daenerys and Viserys, whereas Illyrio sat with some of his servants who seemed to be counting all of the men of the Holy Hundred.
The sight of Rhaella and Bonifer's happy reunion ached Jaime's young heart as he thought of his sister and the love they used to share. Despite now placing his honor higher than the love he once shared for his sister, he would be a mummer if he said he didn't spend his nights thinking of her. Sighing and shaking his head free of the memories, Jaime and Richard moved to sit next to Arthur and Barristan in the shade. As Jaime did so, he caught a glimpse of the number of men that Bonifer had brought with him, their proud banner moving softly in the air.
"The Holy Hundred, Jaime," Barristan explained, as Jaime sat down.
"Ah, I have heard of them. They look well worn, no?" Jaime asked as he took in the sight of the ragged-looking men. To Jaime, they all looked as if they had just been dragged through the desert by their feet.
"They look like peasants, Ser Arthur," Viserys observed. He failed to notice that most of these men were heavily armored beneath their cloaks and capes, which was something Arthur was going to have to correct in future lessons.
"Travelling through Dorne will do that to you." Arthur chuckled, as all of them shared a hearty laugh. They then all drew quiet, listening in on the conversation between Rhaella and Bonifer who held each other in their arms. Jaime noticed how Bonifer hardly seemed surprised that a dragon was lying next to his bygone love. Jaime supposed that Rhaella seemed like she could do anything in Bonifer's eyes, and bringing back the dragons was just one of them.
"I had never thought to see you again, Bonifer." Rhaella sniffed, holding back the tears of joy that were welling up behind her violet eyes. Her soft hands reached up to his face as she traced the lines that formed like cracks in a dried riverbed.
"You did send for me, Rhaella." Bonifer laughed softly, drawing a small smile from Rhaella.
"Stop being silly, Bonifer." She smiled, as she grabbed his hand and led him to the group of knights that sat in the shade watching her reunion. "These are my knights, Bon. I am sure you know of them."
"I'd be a fool if I did not know of them, Rhaella. The whole Seven Kingdoms knows of them, but who is this little one? Your child, Ser Arthur?" Boifer asked as he looked at the babe in Arthur's arms.
"She is mine, Bon. Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen." Rhaella interjected.
Bonfier looked at Rhaella with saddened eyes. "Aerys?" He asked.
Rhaella grew silent for a moment before speaking. "Yes, Bonifer, I am afraid he is." She sighed, remembering how all of her children were conceived. Bonifer too remembered how her children were brought about in the world and he swore when he found out that Aerys raped her, he could've marched into the throne room and killed him then and there, his life be damned.
"I am sorry, my love." He whispered, as he drew her in close and kissed her forehead. As he did so, a sudden hiss came from Vēdros, apparently not happy with anyone touching his claimed person. Bonifer simply smiled down at the baby dragon, seemingly unafraid of the beast. "He is a vicious creature." Bonifer chirped.
"I have read they are very protective, Bon." Rhaella chuckled, as she crouched down and gently stroked her dragon's head. "I suppose we will have to find you a place to stay."
"So long as I am close to you, Rhaella, I do not mind."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Rhaella shared a kiss with Bonifer that was truer than any she ever had with Aerys. Pulling away from each other, she giggled at Viserys obvious disgust at the both of them kissing, but despite that, she felt for the first time in years truly happy with Bonifer finally back at her side. With his love, she felt that she could become an even stronger woman for her knights but most importantly for her children.
Kings Landing: 284 AC: 2 Days Later: (Sex Scene)
The air in the Queens bedchambers was heavy with the stench of flesh and sweat. The evening sun cast the silhouettes of the two people in the room against the red brick of the wall, as the sounds of pleasure filled the air. Cersei could feel the sun's heat on her naked skin as she basked in the pleasures that were being offered to her by Arys Oakheart, the most recent of her appointments to the Kingsguard, and perhaps the most useful one.
Arys both did his duty to the King and now to his Queen, as he used his tongue to explore the curvature of her pebbled breasts. His thick hands clasped her golden hair tightly as she let out a moan of pleasure. Arys took this as his invitation to explore further down Cersei's perfect body. He placed delicate kisses along the lines of her toned stomach before approaching the source of all his wonder. His tongue quickly went to work on Cersei's wet sex, as she ran her hands through his light brown hair and down the back of his head, pushing his tongue into her dripping cunt.
Her moans were ecstacy to Arys' ears as he went about his duty to his Queen. He never imagined he would be in this position when he was first called up to the Kingsagurd by the new Lord Commander, Meryn Trant. He was raised alongside Balon Swann, but he doubted that he would be getting to serve his Queen like this. Arys turned his thoughts back to the woman who lay before him, as he stood up. The Queen smiled at the sight of his erect cock, which stood wet with his excitement.
"Come to me, Arys, I order you." She seductively smiled.
"As you command, my Queen," Arys mumbled as he complied with Cersei's demands.
He slowly entered her luscious gateway, the sound of her wetness filling the room immediately. He slowly moved in and out of her in one motion before she ordered him to go faster. He suddenly complied as he fucked her the way she wanted to be fucked, his efforts being rewarded with the sound of her moans. He could feel himself coming closer to the end as he began to tense up. Cersei could feel him too, as she dug her nails into his arms.
"Cersei..." He breathed, as he filled her with his seed. The sounds of both of their releases reverberating around the room.
Arys collapsed into Cersei's stomach, who in turn ran a stiff hand through his hair. She looked at him with a cold gaze as he breathed heavily and closed his eyes in an attempt to regain some of his energy. Despite being a handsome man with a comely face, he was no Jaime. Nobody could ever be Jaime yet she tried all the same to fill that hole left by him by fucking handsome knights, yet none were as handsome as her brother.
Cersei sighed, as she pushed Arys off of her and stood up to wipe herself clean and replace her torn garments. Arys did the same without saying a word to Cersei, as he had done all of this before. He wasn't stupid enough to think that there was any real love between them rather this was just a convenience for Cersei and Arys could do nothing but obey. However, his mind lingered on one subject and as he pulled his trousers up his legs, he looked at her with tired but curious eyes.
"My Queen?" He asked, attempting to sound as proper as possible despite the act they had just committed.
"For the hundredth time Arys, Robert will not find out." She snapped back at him as she tied her blouse.
"No, it's not that, it's the child you're carrying...I want to know if it is mine?"
Cersei turned to look at him with hatred in her emerald eyes. "What do you think? You think I'd let that drunk put a child in me?"
Arys rubbed his eyes at Cersei's words. He couldn't believe the position he had put himself in by thinking with his cock and not his brain. "No...I just...want to be there for-"
"Let me tell you now Arys, this child is not yours. It will never be yours. No matter what you think and no matter what you do." Cersei interrupted, as she finished dressing herself. She poured herself some wine and downed the glass in a single swallow, apparently needing a drink to calm herself.
Arys looked at her with a hollowness inside of him. A bastard child of his making to become a Prince or Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all yet he felt the dishonor more. All of his life he wanted to be in the Kingsguard, but now he was here, all he felt was empty and sick thanks to Cersei's perversions.
Arys finished tying his sword around his slim waist, as he gave one final look toward Cersei who waved him away dismissively. She watched the knight walk from the chambers, as he slammed the door behind him. The Queen let out a sigh and carried on sipping her newly poured glass of wine as she turned to look out at the setting sun on the Narrow Sea.
Somewhere out there was her true love. She imagined he was somewhere uncomfortable and desolate, following Arthur Dayne around on some mad mission of honor. She would smile at the thought if she didn't care for him so much. She wanted him here with her in the Red Keep, to keep her safe from Robert and to comfort her in her times of need. Yet those dragons across the sea took him from her, especially that stuck-up Sword of the Morning. She swore that one day she would have her revenge on them all for stealing away her brother and that one day, he would return to her.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry for the sex scene but I felt it was needed to drive home how desperate Cersei was and what her child's heritage is, but if you're into all that, enjoy I guess. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading and I should have another chapter up before Christmas.